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Chapter Text

It was Hermione's first morning at the Burrow since graduating from her final year at Hogwarts with Ginny and Luna. Yesterday, Harry and the Weasley family had been stood eagerly at the platform, ready to welcome them home, but Hermione had been secretly dreading this moment. Her life now didn't have the comforting structure of lessons and homework, and now she'd have to go off and apply for jobs, and join everyone else in the rat race. At least she wasn't entering her new life post-Hogwarts alone. Harry had invited her to live with him at Grimmauld Place for as long as she pleased, and in the coming weeks and months they'd both have a go at sprucing up the old house.

Of course, returning also meant Ron was more freely able to seek out her attention beyond owl post and infrequent Hogsmeade meet ups, with and without Harry. Hermione hadn't admitted to anyone but herself yet that her affection for Ron dwindled now that she'd had time away from him. The wizarding world was safe as they knew it, and she no longer saw him as the pillar of comfort that he once was when they were The Trio.

Ron had been first to greet her in a big embrace when she stepped off the Hogwarts Express, which had been perfectly acceptable until he tried to plant kiss on her mouth in front of everyone. Her quick reaction meant he only kissed her cheek, but to everyone else they looked red as each other for entirely different reasons.

Hermione had thankfully secured her place in Ginny's room last night, so she had slept without the worry of Ron still trying for a kiss, or more.

It was a weekday, so those who had work were rushing to get ready around her, whilst she got to potter about and help Molly with making breakfast.

'It's wonderful having you back, dear.' Molly said to her, as they sliced and buttered some bread buns. 'It's certainly perked Ron up.'

Hermione raised her eyebrows. 'Is it work?'

'It's everything but, believe it or not. George's been asking him for help round the shop more often now, and Bill's been a bit off too, so Ron's been keeping him company, and I think it's just rubbed off on him a bit. No time to himself. You'll have to take him out one evening, cheer him up.'

'He never said anything about Bill to me in his letters,' Hermione admitted.

'Yes, well neither of them will tell me what's wrong. I don't think it's anything to do with his... affliction, either, because he talks openly about it with me and Arthur.'

'So you think it could be something relationship related?'

Molly looked pleased with her answer. 'I do. That wife of his is probably demanding too much of him. I warned him she'd be too high maintenance. That's why I'm pleased Ron has you. Much more down to earth, aren't you dear?'

Hermione frowned at the kitchen counter. Not only because there was a backhanded compliment in there, but because she couldn't believe that Mrs Weasley still had a problem with Fleur. 'But Fleur is actually very self-sufficient. And, when she looked after me she was always firm but caring with me. I'd never have described her as demanding towards anyone.'

Molly quietly considered her words. 'Yes, well I still think it's her that's causing the issues.'

Thankfully, breakfast wasn't quite as chaotic as it usually was for the household, with the only siblings around being Ron and Ginny, and the latter hadn't even woken up yet. Harry had opted to return home for the night, and he managed to arrive just as the bacon had been transferred from pan to plate, with Ron bounding down the stairs almost at the same time.

'Morning everyone,' Harry said as he sat down in his usual seat, hooking his Auror robe over the back. He nodded towards Hermione. 'The spare room's all ready for you. I'm looking forward to having you stay. Are you sure you're okay going back without me?'

'I'll be fine, thank you. Not sure what to do with my day with you both being at work.'

'George!' Ron coughed out, mid-chew of his bacon sandwich. 'You've just reminded me. George wanted to invite you both to the shop next week after work hours. He's wanting opinions on his new ranges, and just thought it would be nice to invite a big group of us. Luna'll probably be there. And Dean, Seamus... I think Bill said he'd come.'

Ron thankfully didn't catch Hermione's look of distain, as he eyed up what was Ginny's unattended breakfast. Staying well clear of anything from Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes had become one of her most disliked past times at Hogwarts; especially anything that involved vomiting, pus, mucus... she could go on.

'I'll be there,' Harry said, sparing a glance at Hermione and smirking under the sip of his orange juice at her expression. 'Beats staying in. Doesn't it?'

Next week rolled around rather quickly, and between making herself at home and instantly accepting a job offer at the Department for Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, Hermione had put the invite out of her mind. Until Tuesday morning.

Hermione spotted the opened letter on the kitchen table and almost didn't enjoy her first mouthful of coffee for the day. Harry was dotting around the room in an effort to be ready for work on time, whilst Hermione relished in the last few weeks of unemployment, before starting at the Ministry. It had been wonderful watching Harry being rushed off her feet whilst she relished in carefree mornings.

'I can't think of anything worse than being a guinea pig for his shop,' she admitted out loud as Harry brushed past her.

'I know you hate the place, but you'll get to see some of the others tonight. It's not like he's forcing you to even try anything out.'

If anything, everyone else needed her there to be the voice of reason. For tonight she could be part of the Regulation and Control of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes.

'Fine.'

'Good. I'll see you after work.'

Despite being midweek, the light summer evenings had drawn a lot of crowd to afterwork drinks in Diagon Alley's cafes and pubs. Hermione enjoyed an hour of coffee, cake, and people watching, whilst she waited for Harry, and they walked to Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes together. They arrived with a few minutes to spare to an already bustling shop, where Dean and Seamus were already excitedly daring each other on what to try. Ginny and Luna were also wandering around the shop, though with a lot more restraint.

'I think this is everyone, if you wanna get started, George,' Ron called out.

George appeared from a corner of the shop, checking his pocket watch, and doing a quick head count. 'We're still missing Bill, but we can just start.'

As soon as the words left his mouth, the doorbell chimed and the last person finally arrived. But it wasn't Bill who'd just entered. It was Fleur.

Hermione's pulse quickened like a train gradually picking up speed; this was the last place she expected to see her.

'Bloody hell,' Ron said under his breath. 'Wasn't expecting her.'

The sunlight seemed to shine purposely brighter around Fleur. Though in comparison, Fleur herself wasn't beaming as she entered. She didn't seem nervous, but she didn't look like she felt at home, either.

'Lovely to see you Fleur,' George said, making a beeline to take her coat. 'No Bill?'

Without looking at anyone in particular, Fleur shook her head. 'No, he... sends his apologies.'

'Have you, er, just finished work?' Harry asked when she approached.

'No,' Fleur said, shrugging a little. 'I just didn't want to arrive first.'

Hermione bit back a grin at her typical French honesty.

'Alright folks,' George said bringing his hands together as he took his place on the stairs. 'First of all thank you for coming. For those who haven't been here before, you've probably already seen that the tables in the centre have things like sweets, toys, etcetera, alongside cards which explain what they do. Feel free to try anything and everything, and tell me what you think.'

As George dismissed the group, everyone started to form into their natural groups at first, muttering with low voices, and pointing at whatever caught their fancy. As Harry and Ron called her over, Hermione found herself looking over her shoulder to that of Fleur, whose eyes flickered around the room with quiet uncertainty of who to join.

'Hermione, you joining us?' Ron called out, but it fell on deaf ears.

This was the perfect time to reconnect. Though a part of her was nervous to approach Fleur, she couldn't believe she'd barely conversed with the woman since being nursed back to health by her. Fleur who had barely known the trio and their friends, but still welcomed them in her home. Fleur who had nursed her back to health, and asked for nothing in return but conversation and the promise that Hermione would allow herself to heal.

The pit of Hermione's stomach felt like lead at the realisation that they'd never really conversed much since. How thankless must she appear right now?

Taking a deep breath, Hermione called out. 'Fleur, hi!'

Fleur's shoulders visibly relaxed as her gaze landed on Hermione, her stony expression melting into something a little softer, as relief washed over her. She closed the gap without hesitation, giving Hermione a kiss on each cheek.

She paused to hold Hermione's face in her hands, drinking in her appearance. 'It's great to see you Hermione, I was hoping you'd be here. Would you like to partner up?'

If Hermione felt nervous before, she was practically in bits now as a mix of perfume and a familiar, but heavier pull of Fleur's thrall floated around, making her lightheaded. The hands on her face may well have been holding her upright.

'I'd love to,' she managed to say, albeit softly, before finding her voice. 'Though I must warn you, I'll not be trying anything.'

Hermione wandered around some of the tables, eyeing everything warily like something was going to jump out at her. It always amazed her when she'd see one of the boys like Seamus just go all in, trying something out without hesitation. He reached for one sweet called an Eye Candy, which had changed his eyes to a disturbingly Crookshanks-like orange, and before even know what it did, he'd thrown another thing straight in his mouth from an entirely different bowl.

Ahead of Hermione, Fleur slowly trailed her hands lightly across the table cloth, drawing intricate patterns around the bowls, product stands, and little description cards each product was presented with.

She stopped at a line up of tubes all designed to look like a typical Muggle magician's wand, and picked one up. 'This sounds fun, it's called Regretti Confetti.'

Hermione didn't like how comfortable Fleur looked holding one. 'I don't think anything with "regret" in the name sounds fun, what does the card say about it?'

With a devious smile, Fleur decided to show and not tell, giving her wrist a flick forward at Hermione. The tip of the wand exploded, showering Hermione in multicoloured confetti before she could react.

And it didn't stop.

More and more confetti cascaded out the wand, collecting like autumn leaves at her feet. The volume of confetti increased to the point Hermione could no longer see anything in front of her, but she could hear Fleur's wonderful, joyous laughter.

'Right, that's it.'

Blindly reaching for a Regretti Confetti wand of her own, Hermione swished it in Fleur's general direction.

Fleur had lowered the wand, allowing Hermione to see how differently her own wand reacted. Hermione's confetti flew out the wand with a contrasting lack of force, instead corkscrewing around the room and around Fleur's head, each one whistling loudly like a firework before it exploded into even more confetti.

Fleur dodged away in surprise, raising her own joke wand, which hadn't slowed down on confetti, and aimed mercilessly at Hermione.

Instinctively, Hermione flicked her wand forward like Fleur had, which changed the flow of the confetti to the same intensity as a waterfall. And for the next minute or so they attempted to drown one another in confetti.

Eventually the confetti slowed to a stop, and all that was left were two girls panting from laughing and chasing one another.

George strolled past them both, wading his way through knee-high piles of confetti, with a clipboard in hand. 'Big tick for that one.'

As Hermione caught her breath against the counter, it was clear they weren't the only ones having fun, as she watched the frenzy around the room.

She witnessed Ron duck under the stairs away from Harry, who was uncontrollably sneezing out butterflies that insisted on following Ron around.

'At least they aren't spiders!' She heard Harry call out between efforts to hold in his sneezes.

Her attention on the others didn't linger long as a deep red envelope with her name on curiously levitated into view. Hermione slowly took it, eyeing Fleur warily as she lowered her real wand.

'Go on,' Fleur urged, putting a little too much effort into keeping her expression passive.

Hermione narrowed her eyes jokingly, but again, Fleur assured her.

She only had to break the envelope seal a fraction when the entire thing leapt out of her hand and back into the air. It folded itself inwards and outwards, forming the head of a wolf in an origami style that would be impossible to recreate without magical intervention.

The wolf whistled at her in admiration, gave her a wink, then self-destructed into hundreds of tiny paper hearts in front of her.

'I liked that one too,' Fleur said, giving nothing away in her voice, as she quickly moving onto the next thing that might catch her eye.

Hermione felt her entire face grow warmer, her heartbeat once again that little bit faster than normal. Although the whole reason for being in George's shop was to test things out, she let her mind wander to the possibility that Fleur had chosen the letter - or Whistler - as the placard helpfully provided, on purpose to fluster her.

Taking a deep breath to recompose herself, she followed after the woman.

Her composure didn't last long, as Fleur had found a table of sweets and other edibles. If there was one thing Hermione had vowed not to sample, it was anything she had to ingest.

'You look as though you fear for your life,' Fleur said, the corner of her mouth upturned.

Hermione shot her an incredulous look. 'You do know who we're dealing with right? The creator of Puking Pastilles, so yes, I'm wary of what I'm putting in my mouth when I'm here.'

'Well then, are these innocent enough for you?' Fleur gestured to a bowl of blue and white hard mints. 'Compli-mints.'

That did sound tame for George. Hermione scanned the placard that George had provided in case Fleur was lying to her.

Compli-mints. Duration lasts for as long as the mint. User will express genuine praise or admiration towards people they meet.

'Yes, this does sound tame, but are you sure you want to go straight to testing anything edibi— oh you're mad!'

Clearly not sharing the same qualms, Fleur popped a powdery mint into her mouth, her cheeks hollowing. Hermione stared in disbelief, and despite the placard telling them what the mints did, she still half expected Fleur's hair to change colour, or for the woman to grow horns.

'I don't know what I was expecting to happen, but at least they're refreshing,' Fleur shrugged. 'Just like our conversations— oh! That was fast.'

Hermione laughed at Fleur's surprise, which told her that mint worked instantly. 'How lovely of you to say you find our conversations refreshing.'

'Your turn,' Fleur insisted.

'As if you need to hear compliments,' Hermione lightly scoffed.

'Ahh, but not just from anyone, I want to hear them from your beautiful lips.'

Genuine admiration, Hermione repeated in her head, licking her suddenly dry but apparently beautiful lips.

This was exactly why she was especially hesitant - what might she say? Hermione had more than a bit of admiration for Fleur ever since she'd been taken care of at her lowest point. They'd spoken for hours, just the two of them, and she thoroughly loved having an intelligent conversation with someone near enough her age, and not one of her professors.

Fleur gave her an exaggerated pout, before taking another mint for herself and letting it take effect. 'Be the brave Gryffindor I know you are.'

'If I was truly brave, I'd just compliment you without the need of mints,' Hermione pointed out.

'And yet you never have,' Fleur countered with a grin. 'Come now my beautiful little English rose. Your turn!'

'Okay, okay!' Hermione grabbed a small handful tipped them into her mouth, noting nothing particularly different regarding the taste. To think, she'd literally drank Polyjuice Potion with less issues than this. 'English rose though, really?'

Fleur shrugged. 'Are you not?'

'I dunno...' she trailed off, as she dared to look Fleur up and down. 'Coming from someone who is literally walking perfection.'

'Like you aren't walking perfection yourself. Beauty and intelligence to match.' Fleur moved to grip her shoulders firmly, looking down at Hermione with a warm expression. 'Not to mention the humble heroine of the wizarding world.'

The mints were soft and crumbling now, so Hermione bit down and finished them off with a nervous gulp. Something was building inside her, and although it felt like her throat was closing up, there was a sensation that the words were literally coming up through her throat.

'Well, I wouldn't be here without you nursing me back to health. I don't think people give you enough credit for how caring and smart you are. Not to mention your arse looks really good in those trousers—' Hermione slapped her hand over her mouth. 'Shit! I'm sorry, I was trying so hard not to say anything like that.'

Fleur bit her lip and looked away, which did nothing to suppress the shy grin forming.

'So, what flavour was that you just tried, queermint?' Ginny interjected. She had dried fruit cupped in her hand, and she was throwing pieces in her mouth one by one like popcorn. Her eyes went wide in horror. 'Sorry, that was the Insultanas not me.'

'Since when did you need help with insults?' Hermione asked, her voice cracking a little in her embarrassment. Did George have anything that would cause the ground to swallow her whole?

Ginny threw the rest of the Insultanas out of her hand like they'd caught fire. 'I don't. I'll tell George they need some work... and maybe coat them in chocolate. Again, sorry.'

Fleur turned sharply on Ginny. 'What's wrong with women complimenting other women?'

'Nothing! But this is Hermione we're taking about, she never compliments anyone, never mind their appearance.'

'That's a lie, I said your hair looked lovely against the green of the Harpies kit when you first showed me, remember?'

Ginny had bought a replica Holyhead Harpies Quidditch uniform during their final year, and paraded around the girls' dorm, declaring that she'd be wearing the real thing one day.

The youngest Weasley made a thoughtful sound, as if she agreed somewhat. 'Yeah, but you didn't say my arse looked good in it, so...'

'Ginny, you are one syllable away from being hexed right now.'

And like a coward she excused herself.

-

For the rest of the evening, Hermione refused to try anything else around the shop after that, edible or otherwise.

Even worse, she couldn't even bring herself to look at, or be near Fleur despite the comment not causing any real issue. If fact, Fleur had defended her when she had clearly felt uncomfortable.

She distanced herself by rejoining Harry and Ron; neither of them had seen what had happened, but they sensed she had the wind knocked out of her sails by her sudden diminished energy.

It was nearing eight o'clock when George took his place back on the stairs and waved them over. And with a flick of his wrist, he summoned blank parchment in front of everyone to write down their reviews. As soon as Hermione's hand touched the floating parchment, ink bled into the names of the three things she'd experienced. She rated the Regretti Confetti eight stars; tapping her wand each time to fill in a blank star, because she had had fun with it. The Whistler she'd technically received rather than given out, but it warranted a few stars for being a less abrasive form of Howler. But when it came to rating the Compli-mints, however, her wand paused just centimetres from the first star rating.

Soft humming drew Hermione's attention like siren song that only she seemed to pick up on. Yet Fleur slid into view just ahead of her; her back still to Hermione, but her parchment clear as day to read. It felt like cheating on an exam watching Fleur place her ratings down. Eight for the confetti wands as well - she'd skipped the mints briefly to rate a few other things she must've tried after Hermione scurried away, seven or so for the Whistler.

Then she returned to the Compli-mints section.

One tap, two taps, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten. Hermione's heartbeat counting in unison.

Then Fleur turned every so slightly to look over her right shoulder, looking Hermione dead in the eye, before giving her a wink.

Though still feeling a little sheepish, Hermione shook her head and smirked back.

Ten out of ten?

Well at least Hermione knew for definite that Fleur liked her compliment.