P E T A L S
Hermione J. Granger x Fleur Delacour x Reader
Request: yes
Summary: Fleur moved to Hogwarts, partly for school and partly because she had major crushes on both a Gryffindor and a Hufflepuff. She was sorted into Slytherin but still slowly grew closer to the group of Harry, Ron, Ginny, Luna, Hermione and (y/n) the last two especially. What if they get over themselves and confessed that they do indeed like each other? Well you can imagine (we're ignoring age gaps ok chill)
Warnings: unedited lol I'm so sorry for that ending
Word Count: 1.6K+
You leaned back against the window panes, ignoring the chilled crust of ice that melted against your back. Outside, the sun was dabbled on the snow, enough to make it glitter without revealing its own face. The trunks of the forest were a dark line between two blankets of white.
Your gaze returned to the textbook on your lap, but the chemistry of transfiguration had been hammered into your brain with such brute force it was no longer interesting. From the bay window, you looked down on Fleur, her sheet of silvery hair draped over a straight back, eyes focused on a book very similar to your own. Hermione, on the other hand, was hunched over the desk in the centre, fuzzy hair creating a dome around her face. She scribbled furiously, at times writing over strands of hair without noticing them seep in the ink.
"Hey," you chided, smiling despite yourself at how different they were. "Maybe it's time we took a break?"
"A break?" Hermione gasped in despair, just as Fleur nodded the same words in relief.
"C'mon, I'll make you both a cup of tea. Rosehip for you?" You motioned at the white-haired beauty before gesturing to a mildly frenzied Hermione. "English breakfast?" The brunette agreed eagerly before poring over her notes again.
"I'll come with you," Fleur announced, standing with a grace that made you feel clunky jumping down from the sill.
You walked in silence out of the library, almost bowing at madam Pince, who jumped, having forgotten you came in no less than five hours ago.
"I'm impressed you knew my favourite tea for studying specifically," she said softly, not looking at you as you meandered down the corridors, bars of light streaming in through tall windows.
Your brows raised. "Really? I like to think I know a fair few things about you."
Fleur laughed, accent thick. "Like what?"
"I don't know." You slowed down gradually, thinking too hard to walk. "How you mention France every time it's warm... the way you twirl to test your skirt when no one's looking. Maybe that laugh when you're telling me about a kiss..."
She smiled shyly, almost twirling, almost mentioning France, and definitely laughing. "No one warned me the English would be so charming."
"I don't know how to take that," you grinned. The two of you were standing still now, the corridor an open ended street on either side, void of people.
Fleur tried not to ask but couldn't help herself. "I laugh a certain way?"
"Oh, yeah." Her fingers tease at yours, brushing her knuckles against your waist. "There's a whole expression whenever you even think about kissing, whenever someone even mentions it..." Your hands are at her hips ever so gently. You don't dare close in any further because your legs are already touching. "The corners of your eyes crinkle. You try to repress a wide smile, so your dimple comes out."
Fleur only stares, enraptured. "Your head tilts forward and your hair narrows around your face... like now." What overcame you to say that last part, you didn't know. But her eyes widened and for a moment she moved forward rather than back, lips connecting to your cheek before she stepped away completely.
"Maybe you do know a few details," she said unnecessarily loud, her homeland in every word.
"Oh, I don't know," you murmured. "Anyone might notice these things." I must be going crazy.
•••
"Oh, you've got to be joking. Please tell me you're joking," Hermione groaned, clutching a cushion to her stomach.
"I'm not!" Fleur cried, tears in the corners of her eyes from sheer laughter. "'E looked me in the eye and told me that 'e would take 'er name if they got married, namely 'Dudman'!"
You chortled, covered your face with your arms. "I wonder if he writes 'Mr. Dudman' in the columns of his books."
Hermione snorted despite herself. "Oh, by the way, did you hear what Dean was saying about Ginny the other night?"
"What?" Fleur gasped.
"He was drunk and he kept running around telling everyone the curtain didn't match the drapes, and that they should guess what colour the carpet was... except when people guessed, he just told them it was an Arabic flying carpet... he did that about six or seven times."
Fleur practically sobbed, managing a very unconvincing "that's 'orrible" as she suppressed the smile and her dimple showed perfectly.
"I'm going to get more butter beer from the kitchen," you announced happily. "Although I still wanna know who they keep it for."
You stumbled out of the room as the other two agreed, but they remained lying on your bedroom floor, where even Fleur had slid down from the bed.
"It's funny, isn't it?" Hermione mused, picking at a scab on her knee. "How much time the three of us spend together when others would be out with dates. I mean, I know you and (y/n) get out more-"
"I don't," Fleur interrupted a little too abruptly. "Well, only once or twice. I think (y/n) is the one who tries to every week or so, but doesn't generally like it..."
"Oh."
Hermione was thinking all sorts of ways. Of who Fleur would go out with, how far she would go on a date, who would Hermione even like to see? How about (y/n)? Why did she never hear about your dalliances? For a moment she saw both of you together, scarcely dressed under a blanket. Jealousy surged through her. "Who would you go out with? Want to, I mean?
"Oh, I don't..." Fleur murmured. Her own mind looked much like Hermione's, only the wild brown hair was not missing from the picture. "They would have to be perfect." I must be going crazy.
•••
You were lying on your bed, Hermione at your side, her head nestled in the turn of your arm. You stared down at her, she read to you.
Hermione finished the last page, looked up, and your lips nearly touched as you spoke, hushed, about what the book might really mean. She thinks you must be the most beautiful person in the world at that moment. She thinks she must be going crazy. She falls asleep in your arms, loving that madness.
•••
Starlight fell on Fleur like a beacon, illuminating her in that white dress. She had barely slept that night for thoughts of sparkling eyes, brown and (eye colour). Usually she would never lay herself against the grass, and even now she thought of stains. But these were the early hours of the day where some things matter more or less, and she was dreaming with her eyes wide open.
Dreaming that two figures were nearing her, laughing and talking quietly. Figures she recognised. It was not until Hermione told you off for not knowing Bathilda Bagshot's birthday that Fleur tensed, found reality where she was least expecting it.
"Well, look who it is," you smirked, leaning down beside her and sitting yourself in the grass. "Couldn't sleep?" She shook her head. "Neither could we. Ran into each other in the hallway. What was keeping you up?"
She did hesitate, she was sure, looking back. But in a moment of courage that ruined a year of quiet, Fleur answered: "Thinking of you both. Of kissing you, far in the future."
"Why so far?" you joked, even as Hermione turned to stone beside you. She was joking, wasn't she? Surely. Surely she wasn't...
"I don't know. Why?" It was too late for her to be mortified.
"Wait, what do you mean?" you echoed, catching onto her solemn expression.
"I'm saying I want to 'iss you. Both. All the 'ime!"
Hermione was staring at you aggressively, searching for a reaction, but your gaze was locked on Fleur. "Wow. I can't say..." You gulped. "I can't say I've never thought about it."
Hermione looked frantically between the two of you, more confused than she was used to being.
"Really?" Fleur breathed, entranced. "I know this isn't what you mean, but I 'ave to tell you - I liked you so much from the beginning, it was a part of why I came to 'ogwarts..."
You smiled, frenzied inside. "Oh, Fleur. I'm so happy to hear... I mean, I..." Your lips touched hers delicately, and possibly for the first time since you had met her, crimson spread across her perfect cheeks.
"I mean," Hermione said a little too loudly, "I wouldn't mind... I have noticed... the both of you are very attractive and quite clever-"
Fleur sat up and beckoned the brunette over with nothing more than a finger, wrapped fine fingers around her jaw and held their lips together for two seconds, maybe three.
The moon reflected on them, nuzzling into their embrace like mist.
—————
This is SO SO bad I'm sorry it's so late in general and then this 🥲 maybe I'll edit in the future it was just stressing me out and yeah my apologies
