Fleur De Lis Ch. 8 (Patreon)

Content Warnings: F/F (Gabrielle/Hermione), Breast Play, Teasing.

“Do you know why your friend has called us?”

“No clue,” Harry murmured, trying very hard to ignore the fact that Fleur had her hand in his, and had intertwined their fingers the minute they passed a particularly nosy third-year Hufflepuff on their way out of the Great Hall. “But if he asks for help with his Blast-Ended Skrewts, just say no.”

“Blast-Ended what?”

Harry shuddered at the memory of having to spend an entire class taking care of his friend’s unnatural pets. “Trust me,” he muttered, shaking his head. “You’re much better off not knowing. When he asks you if you want to see one, say no for both our sakes.”

“I like magical creatures.” Fleur shrugged. She had observed the ease with which the tall, bushy-bearded man had handled her Headmistress’ horses. She could sense a deep love for nature and magical creatures in the gentle giant, something which he shared with all Veela. “How bad can they be?”

“Hermione reckons they’re a cross between Fire Crabs and Manticores,” Harry said plainly, not seeing the point of sugarcoating anything for his friend. He spent more than enough time with those violent creatures in his Care of Magical Creatures classes. He had politely declined and dodged each and every one of Hagrid’s invitations to observe them outside class and he saw no reason to change that stance now. “The males have stingers strong enough to pierce your bones and the females can drain all blood from your body in a matter of minutes.” Harry chuckled and nodded at the growing expression of horror on Fleur’s face. “Oh, I should also mention that they explode unexpectedly and give their handlers major burns.”

That was less of a concern for the fire-resistant Veela, but Harry didn’t know that.

“Oh,” Fleur mumbled. She couldn’t come up with a reasonable explanation as to why someone would keep such creatures as pets, so she wisely decided to change the topic. “Where are your friends?”

“Since it’s the weekend and we’ve been blessed with a warm and sunny day, Lavender dragged Ron to Lover’s Point on the far side of the lake for a picnic,” Harry answered with a smirk.

“Isn’t she the one who attacked and hexed your friend because he tried to take her eyeliner?”

“Oh no no, this is her friend. Lavender was apparently swept away by how passionate her handsome little Won-Won can be,” Harry said, raising the pitch of his voice in an attempt to mimic Lavender. “Her words, not mine,” Harry clarified with a chuckle. Harry then glanced at the castle as they walked past the glazed library windows. “Hermione is behind on an Ancient Runes assignment and since Gabrielle struggles with the subject she agreed to tutor your sister while she works on her homework.”

“Gabrielle doesn’t study Ancient Runes, Harry. She got special permission to drop all her electives and spend the free periods out on the Quidditch Pitch,” Fleur replied, fondly rolling her eyes. She wondered what it was about Hermione that had so enraptured her sister. While Gabrielle had always been aggressively flirty, she had never before seen her pursue someone with such determination.

Harry glanced back at the library windows and groaned. “They’re not studying, are they?” Harry asked, already knowing the answer. “Hermione isn’t actually tutoring Gabrielle.”

“I’m sure they’re studying something,” Fleur giggled. “But I’m also certain it’s my sister doing the teaching.”

“The Quidditch Star and the Genius Bookworm,” Harry snorted.

“Sounds like a match made in heaven,” Fleur shot back, bumping her shoulder against his.

They finished the short trek to Hagrid’s hut in comfortable silence. Harry grinned at the sight of his huge friend (and now teacher) waiting for them by the open door to his house. He ushered them inside and onto the couch before moving back to tend to the kettle on his stove.

“Thank you for inviting us to tea, Hagrid,” Harry said with a small, happy smile. With everything that was going on, he’d had less and less time for the simple pleasures of life. He missed hanging out with his oldest friend.

“Yer welcome. Miss you. Don’t see ye or Hermione or Ron much outside of class, but I reckon what with the Tournament and the love of a beautiful lady ye got yer hands full,” Hagrid said gruffly, his back to them as he poured the tea into three mismatched cups.

Fleur blushed and leaned forward to pluck a piece of cake from the plate on the table to keep herself occupied and avoid having to answer any questions about their fake romance. She had been having a tough time talking about their relationship with people, especially since Skeeter had published her entirely bullshit article about them being tragic star-crossed lovers whose love had been forbidden by the judges of the Tournament. She had even gone as far as to suggest Dumbledore and Madame Maxime locked them in different rooms every night in an effort to keep them apart! Skeeter hadn’t stopped at painting them as a modern-day Romeo and Juliet. The woman had also dedicated an entire paragraph talking about all the gory fates that could befall Fleur in the First Task, leaving poor, orphan Harry alone and loveless once more.

The woman was utterly vile and Fleur regretted giving the reporter even a second of her time.

It had led to an incredible amount of interest in their relationship with reactions ranging from barely disguised mocking (Snape) to open mocking (Malfoy) to completely undeserved sympathy (Cedric). The increased attention also meant they constantly had to keep up their façade of being a couple, and Fleur was beginning to lose track of where their real friendship ended and the fake relationship began.

Was she leaning her head on his shoulder because it had been a tough day and she needed the comfort of a friend? Or was it because they were sitting under a tree by the lake a few feet away from a group of Durmstrang students?

She did not know anymore. And if she was being honest, a part of her didn’t really care.

Being around Harry made her happy and she saw no need to put a formal label on what they shared.

She put the heavy piece of baked dough back on the plate at the sight of Harry vigorously shaking his head and leaned back into the tattered but comfortable couch. She shot Hagrid a shy smile when he passed her a steaming cup of tea, waiting for him to take his seat before she took a sip.

Unlike the cakes, the tea was perfectly brewed and just what she needed after a very uncomfortable lesson on all sorts of water-based charms. Professor McGonagall was ramping up the pressure as the First Task approached, delving deeper and deeper into a variety of advanced magic to prepare them for the unknown challenge that lay ahead.

“It’s the Tournament, Hagrid. Fleur would never keep me away from you,” Harry said with an apologetic smile. “The First Task is in a week and when we’re not in class with Professor McGonagall, we are practicing by ourselves to prepare for it.”

“Right. Right.” Hagrid tugged on the curls of his bushy beard. He shifted his large frame on the sofa uncomfortably, clearly wanting to tell them something. Instead of coming straight to the point, however, he climbed to his feet and walked over to the lone window in his hut, peering out at the pen behind his house. “The Skrewts are growing up nicely.”

Fleur set her cup down on the table and joined him by the window, staring at the small herd of pale gray creatures. Their legs stuck out of their bodies at weird angles, and they either had stingers or suckers. Fleur couldn’t find the head on any of them. Every few seconds the rear end of one would explode, propelling it a few feet forward.

“Beautiful, aren’t they?” Hagrid asked, looking at them proudly as Harry reluctantly walked over to stand next to Fleur.

Harry looked at Hagrid, then at the ugly and dangerous creatures outside, trying to figure out the most tactful way to disagree with his friend.

“Yes, they are,” Fleur said, patting Hagrid’s back. What surprised Harry was not her words, but that she genuinely seemed to mean them.

‘Seriously?’ he mouthed at her, only to receive a quiet glare in return.

Fleur dragged Harry back to the couch, leaving Hagrid by the window to admire his dangerous pets.

“What?” Harry murmured. He squirmed under her intense gaze. She seemed genuinely upset with him, and if he was being honest, her glare was the tiniest bit terrifying.

“They’re his pets. Be nice,” Fleur hissed, her glare intensifying when Harry made the mistake of rolling his eyes. “You will say nice things about them, Harry Potter, or you’ll sleep on the couch on the nights you come over!”

“But I already sleep on the couch whenever I spend the night in your room,” Harry whispered, digging himself a deeper hole.

“Now you’ll be doing it because I’m mad at you,” Fleur said icily.

“Why do you care about this so much?”

“They’re important to him. He’s important to you,” Fleur sighed, knowing her friend’s lack of social skills wasn’t entirely his fault. “Look, he’s done so much for you, hasn’t he?”

Harry nodded.

“Can’t you pretend to like the… the-” Fleur waved her hand in the direction of the pen outside the hut.

“The Blast-Ended Skrewts.”

“Right. Do it because it makes him happy,” Fleur explained, giving him an encouraging smile.

“Is everything alright?” Hagrid asked, turning to them with his brow furrowed in concern.

“It is,” Fleur replied with a radiant smile. “Harry was just telling me he can’t wait to take care of them again.”

“Mhm.” Harry nodded, sitting down on the couch next to Fleur. He turned to look at Hagrid, chuckling nervously. “I can’t wait for our next class.”

“I can give ye a quick lesson right now!” Hagrid said, beaming with excitement.

“But wasn’t there something you wanted to tell us, Hagrid?” Harry asked, tactfully changing the subject.

“Right. So, Professor McGonagall is teaching both of you,” Hagrid said once he was settled comfortably in his armchair. He let out a tired sigh as he leaned forward to grab his cup of tea and it was then that Harry noticed the dark circles under his eyes.

“Yep. Hagrid, are you alright?” Harry asked, his brow furrowing in concern.

“Hmph?” Hagrid slurped his tea. “Oh, yes. Just pullin’ a lot of late nights is all.”

Harry raised an eyebrow. “Hagrid, if I find another dragon’s egg lying around somewhere in this hut I will not be happy.”

“Dragon’s egg?”

“Hagrid got a dragon’s egg from a sketchy man in Hogsmeade back in my first year,” Harry explained, looking at Fleur with an amused expression. “Hatched Norbert himself and nursed him for a few days until he nearly burned this house down.”

“Norbert is Norberta now, actually,” Hagrid said bashfully.

“Norbert’s a girl?”

“Yep. Charlie told me. Charlie Weasley,” Hagrid clarified for Fleur’s benefit.

“He’s Ron’s brother. We asked for his help in relocating Norbert… Norberta to a dragon sanctuary in Romania.”

“She’s happy there.”

“I’m glad to hear it, Hagrid, but we nearly got expelled in the process of getting Norberta to her new home. No more dragons, yes?” Harry said, looking at Hagrid sternly until he nodded.

“Speaking of dragons,” Hagrid started, squirming in his chair, unable to meet Harry’s eyes. He focused on the cup in his large hands, occasionally reaching up to nervously tug on his beard. “Professor McGonagall doesn’t get in trouble helping both of yeh cause you’re not Hogwarts’ champions, yes? Not even ye, Harry.”

Harry and Fleur exchanged glances at Hagrid’s choice of words.

Harry could understand the man’s apprehension given his past experiences with Ministry officials. And given Barty Crouch’s intense dislike of them, it wasn’t a reach to assume Crouch would try to punish anyone who tried to help them.

“That’s right, Hagrid,” Harry said cautiously. “Cedric is representing Hogwarts. Which means Professor McGonagall is well within her rights to help us prepare.”

“Can I help you too?”

Fleur reached out and patted Hagrid’s knee, smiling softly. “We’d really appreciate that. I wouldn’t mind if you chose not to help me-” Fleur reached out to grab Harry’s hand and gently squeezed it, knowing he would object. “But what happened to Harry was unfair and he deserves all the help he can get. I and the others chose to enter the Tournament. He didn’t.”

“Very unfair,” Hagrid growled, his face morphing into a scowl behind his beard. He nodded and set his cup down on the table, apparently having made up his mind to help them. “But ye stay too Fleur. Harry loves ye,” Hagrid said. To their surprise and alarm, a fat tear leaked out of the corner of his eye and rolled down his ruddy cheek. “And they’re trying to take ye away from him. He can’t lose ye. He already lost his parents,” Hagrid sobbed.

Harry glanced at the folded newspaper next to the stove, suddenly realizing what was happening and why Hagrid wanted to help them.

“I won’t lose her, Hagrid. We won’t break up over the Tournament, and nothing is going to happen to either of us during the First Task. Skeeter doesn’t know what she’s talking about.”

“The First Task is dragons,” Hagrid said, bawling loudly. He accepted the pastel pink handkerchief Fleur offered him, blowing his nose with it. “And ye’ll get hurt and Harry will lose someone he loves again!”

“Dragons?” Harry asked, ignoring the sudden jump in his heart rate. Fleur looked similarly worried, and he could see she was thinking the same thing. Surely the judges did not expect them to fight a dragon one on one?

“Merde!” Fleur hissed, cursing under her breath. “Fighting a dragon isn’t a test of our bravery. It’s sheer fucking insanity!”

“Ye don’t have ter fight a dragon,” Hagrid mumbled, dabbing his eyes.

“Did you tell them Norberta’s story, Hagrid? Do we have to hatch our own dragon egg?” Harry joked, trying to lift his friend’s spirits.

“They have four nesting mothers in a clearing in the Forbidden Forest with their nests and eggs,” Hagrid mumbled. “Ye gotta steal something from their nest to complete the task.”

“Will the task be in the Quidditch Stadium?” Fleur asked. They had passed a small group of wizards making alterations to the stadium on their way to Hagrid’s hut.

“Think so,” Hagrid mumbled, then shrugged. “Dunno a lot. Thas all Charlie told me.” He blew his nose loudly in Fleur’s handkerchief before offering it back to her.

“Uh… it’s alright. You can keep it Hagrid,” Fleur said with a small smile. Even if it wasn’t technically against the rules, he was still sticking his neck out for someone who wasn’t even his student and she appreciated it.

“Thank you, Hagrid. Every little bit helps. We’ll be ready,” Harry said, forcing himself to sound confident. “And uh-” he blushed heavily but reached out and grasped Fleur’s hand, squeezing it gently. “I promise nothing will happen to us.”

Hagrid nodded morosely and blew his nose again.

“Would ye two like ter stay for lunch?”

“That would be-”

Harry nodded to the rock cakes and shook his head discreetly. Thankfully, Fleur picked up on the hint immediately.

“-lovely,” she finished, glaring at Harry. “But we promised my sister we’d take her on a picnic,” she said.

“Some other day?” Hagrid asked hopefully.

“We’d love to.” Fleur elbowed Harry in the ribs when he didn’t speak up immediately.

“Yes! We’d love to drop by for dinner someday.” He turned to look at Fleur with a hurt expression as he rubbed his aching side.

‘Seriously?’ Fleur mouthed, rolling her eyes.

‘Why’d you do that?!’

‘Gods, you’re dense.’

“Can I ask for yer help with something?” Hagrid asked, interrupting their silent conversation. Spurred on by her friendliness, he turned to Fleur with an expression that was a curious mixture of hope and fear.

“Of course, Hagrid.”

“I asked Olympe to go see the dragons with me tonight,” Hagrid mumbled. “You can come too if you want. Magnificent beasts. I’ve been going every night ter look at them.”

“Who’s Olympe?” Harry asked. Hagrid had been so quiet he wasn’t sure if he’d heard him right.

Hagrid only blushed and dabbed his eyes with the handkerchief in his hand.

“My headmistress,” Fleur answered, a huge grin on her face at the sight of Hagrid’s bright red cheeks. “And I think she’d appreciate it if it was just the two of you tonight, Hagrid,” Fleur murmured, reaching out to pat his hand. “You can take us to see the dragons some other day.”

“Okay.”

“What do you need from us?” Fleur asked. She leaned into Harry’s side and rested her head on his shoulder.

“I… I’ve never…” Hagrid blushed, his cheeks turning bright pink. “I dunno what ter do. Harry and ye are so good together, can you give me some advice?”

Harry and Fleur exchanged panicked glances. Romantic advice? Them?

‘What do I say?’ Harry asked, turning to Fleur for guidance.

‘I don’t know, I’ve never been on a date!’ Fleur mouthed back with a panicked expression, just as lost as he was.

In the end, they both decided to wing it, spending the next ten minutes telling Hagrid anything and everything that came to mind. They told him to hold her hand as much as possible, to lay her down on the grassy forest floor and show her stars. Harry then went on a tangent about hickeys and kisses, only for Fleur to rescue him from completely ruining Hagrid’s date by telling him to instead concentrate on talking about Madame Maxime’s interests for their first date.

After fifteen minutes of pretending, they were running out of things to make up about their own relationship and so they apologized and stood, eager to escape.

“Sorry Hagrid,” Harry lied as he helped Fleur fasten her cloak. “Hermione and Gabrielle are waiting for us.”

They walked across the small hut, a visibly happier Hagrid following them.

“Go ahead, I’ll catch up in a minute,” Fleur whispered, hanging back when they reached the door.

Harry looked at Fleur curiously but nodded, slowly making the trek back to the castle.

Fleur turned to Hagrid with a reassuring smile. “We’re young, Hagrid. We’re still figuring things out. Don’t follow our advice,” Fleur said, cringing internally at everything they’d said to him. Hold hands? Talk about stars?! Neck kisses?! “Just be yourself. From what I know about her, she’ll love you.”

Hagrid nodded bashfully. “Thank you.”

Fleur turned to leave, but Hagrid stopped her by clearing his throat. “I’ve known Harry since he was a babe. I was the one who rescued him from his house after… everything.”

“You’re a good man, Hagrid.”

“Thank you… thing is, he’s been through a lot. I’ve seen the way he looks at ye. He likes you a lot. You promise ter treat him right?”

“I promise,” Fleur said, and she meant it. “See you around, Hagrid. If you like, I’ll swing by tonight to help you get ready for your date.”

“I’d like that.”

Fleur nodded and shot Hagrid one last smile before walking down the steps and running after Harry.

“What did you want to talk to him about?” Harry asked when she caught up with him. They slowly ambled across the grounds, taking advantage of the rare sunny day to soak up some warmth.

“Nothing exciting. I offered to help him get ready for his date tonight.”

Harry smiled. “What do you want to do now?”

“Well, we might as well rescue Hermione from my sister and go grab lunch. I’m sure they’re tired and hungry from all the studying.” Fleur winked.

                                                               ---

An Empty Classroom, Second Floor:

Gabrielle Delacour and Hermione Granger were indeed studying something. Unfortunately, Gabrielle was the one doing the learning, despite her best efforts to avoid it.

She had dragged Hermione out of the library by claiming she studied better in an isolated environment away from other students. She had even pretended to forget her books (which she didn’t own in the first place), only for Hermione to lend her an extra copy of Runic Arithemetic from her bag.

All of her ploys did nothing to deter Hermione, who nevertheless forged ahead and tried to teach her a subject she had no knowledge of and no interest in learning.

“Can we take a break?” Gabrielle begged, snapping her quill in frustration. If she had to learn the significance of one more rune that she couldn’t even draw, she’d lose it.

“Sure. I’m not making any headway with this runic combination anyways.” Hermione sighed and leaned back against the wall. She turned her head, gazing out the window at the couple walking across the grounds. Even from a distance, the curious combination of a Gryffindor cloak and the bright blue of a Beauxbatons uniform was unmistakable.

“Do you know why Hagrid wanted to meet Fleur and Harry today?”

Gabrielle groaned. “You know, for the smartest girl in this castle, you can be incredibly dense at times,” she muttered, crossing her arms over her chest in annoyance.

“What? What’s wrong?”

“I’m sitting here with my tits out and the only two things you’ve talked about the entire time are Ancient Runes and my sister and her oblivious boyfriend-to-be.” Gabrielle rolled her eyes and gestured to her tight tank top. The dark blue garment hugged her body, accentuating her perfect curves. She had progressively shed layers of her clothes, losing first her cloak in the library and then her blouse once they were settled comfortably in the alcove they were currently occupying.

Hermione looked up from her book, her wide eyes locking with the gentle movement of Gabrielle’s chest with every breath. She squeaked and ducked her head, hiding her red face behind her bushy hair.

“Honey, if you don’t like me, all you have to do is say it. I don’t force myself on the unwilling,” Gabrielle said, calmly reaching out to tuck a strand of Hermione’s hair behind her ear.

“I-I don’t… I’ve never been… I don’t know if I-” Hermione stammered. She was in denial, even to herself. Her body rebelled against her mind, however, and she subconsciously spread her legs, the tiny damp spot on her panties growing with every passing second.

“I understand. Well, there’s only one way to find out,” Gabrielle murmured, carelessly pushing the books and rolls of parchment between them to the floor.

“Why me?” Hermione whispered, breathlessly watching Gabrielle close the distance between them. Her movements were slow and deliberate, like a predator stalking its prey.

“No fucking clue,” Gabrielle replied with a grin. “To be quite honest, you’re not my usual type. I typically go for Parisian Veelas and their gorgeous boyfriends. We have a nice weekend in Nice, a few mind-blowing threesomes, and then I move on,” Gabrielle explained with a shrug.

“I’ve never-”

“I know.”

“Or been in a-”

“I know,” Gabrielle said calmly. “Like I said, not my usual type.”

“Why me, then?”

“I think you’re adorable,” Gabrielle replied frankly. She was now inches away from her and Hermione’s body reacted instinctively, leaning towards the ethereal Veela. “I love your gorgeous eyes and your beautiful hair. I like the way you bite your lip when you’re thinking hard,” Gabrielle whispered, grabbing Hermione’s wrists and pinning them to the wall.

Hermione watched with wide eyes as Gabrielle straddled her waist. She was now pinned between Gabrielle’s body and the wall, and her body and mind were finally in complete agreement.

She wanted Gabrielle Delacour. She needed Gabrielle Delacour.

“What’re you thinking, love?” Gabrielle asked, pulling her hands away from Hermione’s wrists for a second to tug the straps of her tank top down her shoulders, freeing her firm breasts. She hadn’t bothered with a bra. She rarely did. She sighed as her perfect, tear-drop-shaped breasts sprang free, her rosy nipples already rock hard with arousal. There was just something about Hermione Granger that drove her crazy, and she wasn’t the type of girl to try to hide it.

“I really like it when you call me your good girl,” Hermione blurted before she could stop herself. She squeaked and tried to hide her face behind her hair again, only for Gabrielle to stop her by wrapping a hand around her slender throat.

“Do you now?”

“Yes,” Hermione mumbled, her cheeks burning.

“Do you want to be my good girl, Hermione?” Gabrielle asked, a huge grin on her face.

Hermione nodded.

Gabrielle chuckled when she saw that Hermione’s gaze was fixed on her breasts. “Use your words, darling. Do you want to be my good girl?”

“Yes.”

Gabrielle reached out and pinched the nipple poking through Hermione’s white blouse, pinching and twisting it harshly and without a hint of remorse.

“AH!” Hermione yelled, squirming helplessly. The jolt of pain caused an unexpected gush of arousal to seep out of her virgin pussy.

“Yes, what?” Gabrielle asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I don’t know. I’m sorry!” Hermione cried out breathlessly, her big brown eyes pleading for forgiveness.

“That’s okay. You’ll learn. Won’t you?” Gabrielle gently eased the pressure on Hermione’s nipple, rolling the throbbing nub between her fingers.

“If you teach me,” Hermione responded shyly.

“Yes, mistress,” Gabrielle murmured, her free hand pushing Hermione’s legs apart. She chuckled as the tangy aroma of Hermione’s arousal filled the air around them, glancing down to peek at the girl’s stained knickers. “Still think you’re not into girls, princess?”

Hermione blushed. She had never been called a princess before. Princesses didn’t look like her. They were pretty, with gorgeous hair and decidedly more interesting hobbies than books. “I’m not a princess,” Hermione mumbled.

Gabrielle growled and tightened her hold around Hermione’s nipple, roughly yanking on it to pull her closer. “Say that again.”

“Ah!” Hermione yelled, going cross-eyed to focus on the soft, pink lips from mere inches from her face. “I-I just said I’m not a princess,” she mumbled, her cheeks red.

Gabrielle pinched Hermione’s other nipple, twisting it without warning.

“AHH!” Hermione sobbed, her warm brown eyes begging for forgiveness once more. What she was apologizing for, she didn’t know yet, but the girl was smart enough to know she had done something wrong.

“Who knows best, Miss Granger?” Gabrielle asked, completely in control of the situation, and of Hermione’s body and mind. Hermione was rapidly sinking into Subspace, even though she had no idea what it was. She felt happy and free, free from her thoughts and the responsibility of looking after her two best friends for the first time in her life. Her mistress would take care of everything. She knew that now.

“You do, mistress,” Hermione mumbled, her cheeks a dark red.

“And if I say you’re a princess, what does that mean?” Gabrielle released her hold on Hermione’s nipples. Her fingers sank into the soft flesh of her creamy mounds and she began to gently massage Hermione’s small breasts, drawing out a loud, wanton moan from her lips.

“I-I… OH, GOD!” Hermione moaned, her eyes fluttering shut. “I’m a princess!”

“Good girl,” Gabrielle whispered, leaning in and gently pressing her lips against Hermione’s. Hermione submitted without prompting, parting her lips to allow Gabrielle’s tongue to dart in and plunder her mouth.

They stayed entangled for a better part of ten minutes, neither of them ready to pull away even as their bodies rebelled against them and demanded air. Gabrielle finally pushed herself away from Hermione when she felt the girl panting breathlessly under her.

“Fuck, you’re perfect,” Gabrielle gasped, cupping Hermione’s cheeks.

“Are you going to leave after a fun weekend?” Hermione asked suddenly, peering worriedly at Gabrielle through half-lidded eyes. The pleasant haze she was floating in evaporated at the thought of Gabrielle dumping her once she got what she wanted.

Hermione didn’t think her heart could handle being given such bliss, only to have it ripped away come Monday.

“I don’t think I could even if I wanted to,” Gabrielle whispered, grabbing the collar of Hermione’s blouse to pull her in for another bruising kiss. Their tongues danced as Hermione moaned wantonly, letting Gabrielle freely explore the warm depths of her mouth. They finally pulled away for air, a thin trickle of drool still connecting their swollen lips.

“Will you be mine, Hermione Granger?” Gabrielle asked, feeling shy for the first time in her life. She had never put herself out there, always too afraid of getting hurt to really commit to a relationship. But Hermione was different. She couldn’t explain how or why, she just knew.

“I’ve never had a girlfriend before,” Hermione admitted. “Or a mistress.”

“Neither have I.” Gabrielle paused. “Well, I had a mistress once. This lovely lady I met in Ibiza. God, her spankings were divine.”

“Are you going to spank me?” Hermione asked, giggling happily.

“Darling.” Gabrielle grinned, her bright blue eyes twinkling with excitement. “I’m going to do so much more than that if you say you’re mine.”

“Yes,” Hermione whispered, a beautiful smile lighting up her pretty face. “Yes, I’ll be yours, Gabrielle Delacour.”

Notes:

To be honest, both Fleur and Gabrielle are perfect for Harry and Hermione. Fleur is going to help Harry be the man and wizard he is destined to be and Gabrielle is just going to teach our resident genius to chill out a bit. Oh, and then they're going to work together to make sure Harry and Fleur finally stop beating around the bush and admit what everyone else can see. In some personal news, I lost my pet and I want to thank all of you who reached out to me. You are all an awesome community.