A Promise Under the Stars
As the evening unfolded in a haze of laughter, music, and celebration, Hermione took Fleur’s hand gently, guiding her toward a set of double doors that led out to the palace gardens. They slipped outside into the cool night, where the stars shimmered brightly overhead, casting a soft glow over the manicured hedges and blooming roses. The distant sounds of the ball softened, leaving only the quiet rustle of leaves and the gentle chirping of crickets.
Hermione led Fleur toward a secluded marble bench beneath an old oak tree. She gestured for Fleur to sit, but before Hermione could take a seat beside her, Fleur shook her head, a playful glint in her eye, and nudged her down onto the bench instead. Hermione, surprised but amused, obliged, settling herself onto the cool stone. Then, without hesitation, Fleur nestled onto her lap, wrapping her arms around Hermione’s shoulders and resting her head against Hermione’s shoulder.
Hermione adjusted slightly, drawing her dark jacket off her own shoulders and draping it over Fleur, shielding her from the chill of the night. She held Fleur close, pressing a gentle kiss to her hair, breathing in the familiar, comforting scent of her beloved.
For a moment, they simply sat in silence, watching the stars above. The silence between them was comfortable, filled with the weight of everything that had happened, of everything that was still unsaid. Hermione could feel Fleur’s heartbeat, steady and warm, against her chest, grounding her in this perfect, intimate moment.
After a while, Hermione’s hand gently traced soothing circles along Fleur’s back. “You’ve been quiet since… since I asked you,” Hermione murmured, her voice barely louder than a whisper. “I wanted to take you somewhere private, so you could say whatever’s on your mind. I know… this is a lot.”
Fleur let out a soft, almost nervous laugh, her fingers curling around the fabric of Hermione’s shirt. “It is a lot,” she admitted, her voice carrying a note of vulnerability that she rarely showed. “I wasn’t expecting… any of this. The proposal, the promises. I always thought that… this marriage would be something arranged, something for duty. But with you… it feels like so much more.”
Hermione’s hand stilled on Fleur’s back, her voice gentle and reassuring. “It is more, Fleur. I meant every word. You’re more than a title, more than just a duchess in some arranged marriage. You’re… you’re the person I want by my side, not because of duty, but because of choice.”
Fleur looked up, her eyes searching Hermione’s face. “I thought… sometimes I thought you were distant, maybe even cold. I worried you might not feel the same, that you saw me only as an obligation. But tonight…” Her voice trailed off, and she took a shaky breath. “Tonight, I realized how deeply you care. You, the one who’s so stoic and guarded with everyone else, showed me something so vulnerable.”
Hermione’s gaze softened, and she tucked a stray strand of Fleur’s hair behind her ear. “You’re the exception, Fleur,” she whispered. “With you, I don’t have to be an Empress, or a leader, or anyone else but just… me. And all I want is for you to know that, with every fiber of my being, I love you. I will protect you, cherish you, and never let you doubt that you are the one my heart chose.”
Fleur’s eyes filled with tears, and she reached up to cup Hermione’s face, her fingers brushing against Hermione’s cheek. “And I choose you,” she whispered, her voice filled with a fierce, unbreakable conviction. “I will stand beside you, fight with you, and be yours as long as this life and the next will allow.”
They sat in the starlit garden, wrapped up in each other, the rest of the world forgotten. Fleur leaned back against Hermione, her head nestled in the crook of Hermione’s shoulder, feeling Hermione’s steady heartbeat beneath her. She felt Hermione’s arms tighten around her, a silent promise, as the stars watched over them—a promise of forever, sealed in quiet words and gentle touches, beneath the vast, endless sky.
And in the peace of that moment, with nothing but the quiet hum of the night around them, they knew that no matter what the future held, they had found something rare and true: a love that would endure, untarnished by time, and a bond that would never break.
With the quiet of the garden surrounding them, Fleur tilted her head up, her gaze meeting Hermione's. She pressed a gentle kiss to Hermione's lips--a soft, delicate gesture. But as she pulled back slightly, she found herself unable to resist; there was a magnetic pull between them, a need for closeness that she couldn't deny. She leaned back in, this time lingering a little longer, letting her lips explore Hermione's with a tenderness and passion that spoke volumes.
Hermione, taken by surprise at first, soon responded with equal fervor. Her arms tightened around Fleur's waist, drawing her closer as their kisses grew deeper, more insistent. What had begun as a soft touch turned into something more intense, their breaths mingling in the cool night air as they lost
themselves in each other. Fleur's hands moved to the back of Hermione's neck fingers tangling in her hair, while Hermione's own hands caressed the small of Fleur's back, anchoring her in place. They were wrapped up in each other, oblivious to anything else, fully immersed in the warmth and comfort of each other's touch.
The world around them faded away leaving only the quiet sounds of their shared breaths and the whisper of leaves in the gentle breeze. The only thing that mattered was the closeness between them, the way their bodies fit together perfectly, as if they had always belonged to each other. Fleur pulled back slightly, her lips tingling and her eyes half-lidded with affection, a soft smile curving her lips. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest, her skin alive with the feeling of Hermione's touch. She never wanted to let go.
"You have no idea how much I love you, Hermione," she whispered, her voice barely audible, as if speaking too loudly would shatter the magic of the moment. The words were simple, but they held the weight of everything she felt in her heart-everything she had always kept buried, only now daring to let it show
Hermione gazed back at her, eyes full of warmth and unwavering devotion. She could see the raw honesty in Fleur's eyes, the vulnerability she rarely showed anyone. It made her heart swell. "Then let me show you," she replied softly, brushing a stray strand of hair from Fleur's face before leaning in again, her lips meeting Fleur's in another kiss that was as deep and earnest as the feelings she held for her. This kiss was not just an answer to Fleur's confession; it was a promise-a vow to always be there, to always cherish her.
Together, they remained there in the quiet of the night, surrounded by stars and the gentle glow of the garden lights, would endure, unwavering and eternal, written in every tender touch and whispered word.