Chapter 4
Hermione Granger was a woman of action, a strategist who thrived on logic and meticulous planning. Yet here she was, days and weeks into a self-inflicted emotional purgatory, paralyzed by indecision. She paced the townhouse, wrestling with the knowledge that she had to tell Fleur the truth. That Fleur was… Hermione paused, unable to finish the thought even in her own head.
Pregnant.
Two diagnostic secret tests—one ancient charm and one potion—had confirmed it. The results had glowed, shimmered, and positively screamed the news she now held like a live Niffler in her chest. And instead of telling Fleur, Hermione had become something of a shadow, hovering around her partner with the silent intensity of a dragon guarding its hoard.
It started innocuously enough. Hermione insisted Fleur take the lighter bags during their grocery trips, prepared her favorite meals without waiting for Fleur's dramatic culinary critiques, and seemed determined to enforce strict resting periods that Fleur hadn't asked for.
"Hermione, I can carry the groceries too" Fleur had said one evening, exasperated.
"Yes, but why should you when I'm here?" Hermione replied, taking them from her hands anyway.
Fleur narrowed her eyes. "You are being… strange. And I do not like it."
Hermione deflected with a nervous laugh and kissed her cheek, but the look Fleur gave her was one of growing suspicion. By the third day of this behavior, Hermione's hovering had gone from endearing to infuriating.
Fleur finally confronted her one evening while Hermione was chopping vegetables with the kind of focus usually reserved for brewing Wolfsbane Potion.
"Enough!" Fleur snapped, placing her hands on her hips. Even pregnant and unknowingly so, Fleur was an imposing figure. "Hermione, you are keeping something from me. I demand to know what it is."
Hermione froze, her knife pausing mid-chop. "What? No, I'm not."
"Do not lie to me," Fleur said, her voice rising. "You disappear for hours, you hover like a deranged pixie, and you barely look me in the eye. What is it? Are you…" Her eyes narrowed further, her voice dropping into an accusatory hiss. "Are you seeing someone else?"
The knife clattered onto the cutting board. Hermione spun around, horrified. "What? No! Fleur, how could you even think that?"
"How could I not?" Fleur threw her hands up. "You avoid me, you work late, and look at me!" She gestured dramatically to her body, her usually graceful hands flailing and signaling her slightly pudgy belly "I am… unattractive now."
"That's not true," Hermione said firmly. "Even with the little extra weight you're still the most beautiful woman I've ever seen."
"Little extra weight?" Fleur demanded, her tone sharp enough to cut through steel. "So you really think I am… fat! C'est n'est pas possible!" She said dangerously
"No! Fleur, that's not what I meant," Hermione said quickly, holding up her hands as though warding off an incoming hex. "I think you're stunning. Always. The… extra softness just makes you more… radiant."
Fleur's eyes widened in outrage. "You think I am a… brioche!"
"I don't think you're a brioche!" Hermione practically yelled, now genuinely panicking. "Fleur, you're… you're..." She stopped herself, swallowing hard. She couldn't deflect anymore. Fleur's fiery glare pinned her in place like a curse.
"You will tell me right now what is going on Hermione Granger" Fleur demanded.
Hermione exhaled shakily, knowing there was no way out. She straightened her back, squared her shoulders, and went full Hermione Granger. "Fleur, you might want to sit down for this."
"Non," Fleur said firmly. "Tell me."
Hermione hesitated.
"Tell. Me. Now" Fleur demanded
"Fine." Hermione took a deep breath, her voice steady but her heart pounding. "You're pregnant."
Fleur blinked, then laughed, a short, incredulous laughter. "What?"
"I've done the tests," Hermione said seriously, her words tumbling out now that the dam had broken. "Twice. They were positive. And I've researched Veela magic in depth… it's rare, but it's possible. Magical conception. And it happened. To us."
Fleur's mouth opened, closed, then opened again. "You are serious?"
"Yes."
Fleur sighed, Hermione wasn't lying, her seriousness, her tone, absolute, and the fact that she had been acting so strangely lately sealed it. Fleur's eyes narrowed, there was only one way to confirm if this was remotely possible. "I must call my mother."
"What?" Hermione spluttered. "Now?!"
Fleur ignored her, striding to the fireplace. With a quick incantation, she connected to her family home. Her mother's serene face appeared in the flames.
"Fleur, ma chérie, qu'est-ce qu'il y a ?" (Fleur, ma chérie, what is it?) The blonde striking older women asked.
"Maman, est-ce qu'une Veela de notre famille est déjà tombée enceinte d'une sorcière ? (Maman, has any Veela in our family ever become pregnant by a witch?) Fleur asked bluntly.
Her brows furrowed. "Pas dans notre famille, non. Mais j'en ai entendu parler dans d'autres clans. Pourquoi? (Not in our family, no. But I have heard of it in other clans. Why?)
Fleur immediately severed the connection.
She was pregnant. Fleur thought, as she sank into a chair, her hands moving instinctively to her stomach. Her expression was a kaleidoscope of emotions: disbelief, wonder, and… fury.
Fleur sat in silence for almost twenty minutes, although for Hermione this seemed ages while she was frozen on her spot, waiting for Fleur's reaction and frantic not understanding what had happened or what had they said, as her French was rudimentary at most.
"This is your fault," she said, interrupting the long pause and startling Hermione, pointing an accusing finger at her. "You! And your magic! And now I am... fat!"
Hermione tried to suppress a smile, it seemed that now Fleur had accepted the news.
"You are not fat, you are pregnant.. and beautiful" Hermione said "But, Fleur, this is amazing. We're going to be parents."
"Parents," Fleur said faintly. "Parents" she repeated, her lips twitched into a reluctant smile, she put her hands on her own belly, softly. "I suppose I will forgive you. Eventually."
Hermione laughed, stepping forward to pull Fleur into a hug. "I'll spend the rest of my life making it up to you."
Fleur huffed, though her arms circled Hermione tightly. "Good. You will need to, Granger. Because this is only the beginning." They stayed like that, the enormity of their future settling in.