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Fleur smiled as she held Hermione’s hand and took in their stunning environment. Her love’s other hand was holding up the really large pamphlet that they were given upon entering the magical garden, one of only three in all of wizarding Europe. “Would you rather see the flowers, or read about them?” Fleur asked as gently as possible.
Hermione blushed and lowered the pamphlet, slightly. “I suppose I can read about them as I see them.”
Fleur squeezed her hand, and nodded. “Once we stop to look at something, I will love to hear about their history.” Especially since it was from Hermione’s lips.
The trip had been Fleur’s idea, a chance to see so many beautiful flowers and plants that Shell Cottage can’t grow, but Hermione had been surprisingly amenable to the idea. Maybe she just wanted a chance to learn, but Fleur liked to think it was her almost-hidden romantic side coming to the surface.
It was nice to get away from the cottage, and the chores, and to go on a real, proper date. Just because they were married, Hermione had once said, was no reason not to enjoy a few dates now and then. Fleur had agreed with all of her heart. She could enjoy being home, but just like Hermione, she craved excitement at times.
And sure, walking through the garden and examining plants that could eat you if you got too close wasn’t death-defying, but it was fun and exciting all the same. Hermione’s laugh when Fleur got too close to a fanged geranium and it bit her sweater was enough to make the whole thing worth it. She was doubled over, laughing with tears, and even Fleur couldn’t help joining in.
Sure, it was her favorite sweater, but it was more than worth it.
When they got to the less dangerous section, Hermione stopped her obsessive quoting. Or, at least, she did for the most part. She explained the different meanings of the different roses, which was something Fleur knew since she was little, but enjoyed hearing Hermione’s perspective on them all the same.
But it wasn’t until they got to the violets that Fleur stopped, and was able to give Hermione a lesson. “Violets,” Fleur started, “used to be used by lesbian lovers to show their interest in a woman.”
Hermione tilted her head. “Why?” She looked at them. “They’re not nearly as, well, evocative as some of the other plants we’ve seen.”
Fleur smiled and shrugged. “It’s based on an ancient tradition, from a bisexual poet.”
“Well, I suppose, if that’s the case, there’s only one thing I can do,” Hermione said. Her eyes glinted with mischief, and Fleur couldn’t help smiling back. “I have to get you one, so you know how much I love you.”
And, after a quick glance around, she reached down and picked one of the flowers, putting it in Fleur’s pocket with a grin. Fleur laughed, and looked around, as well. Reaching down, she picked another and handed it to Hermione, slipping it into the pocket in her flannel shirt. “I will always know how much you love me. But you should know how much I care about you, too.”
Grinning, they shared a brief kiss, before making their way towards the exit. They kiss had been brief, but with enough promise that they wanted to get home as soon as possible.
They would likely get in trouble for gifting each other with the flowers. Fleur didn’t doubt that there were magical wards on the area to prevent people from walking away with valuable things.
Still, any fine they were given would mean nothing, because she had a flower specifically for wooing in her pocket, and the love of her life holding her hand.