“This is what you wanted the whole time, wasn't it Fleur?” Hermione all but shouted, pacing back and forth in the living room of her apartment. “You wanted me to believe that you really felt something for me, that what we had was real!”
Fleur, sinking lower into the couch, could only shake her head as the tears built up in the corner of her blue eyes. Hermione’s laptop sat open on the coffee table between the two women, open on a picture of the French woman and Dr. Leekie, the rest of their geneticist team around them.
Dr. Aldous Leekie with Research Associates Dr. Fleur Delacour, Dr. Gillian Crane-Kramer, Dr. Joey Paquet, and visiting Research Analyst Allan Westlake.
“Delacour instead of Beraud, huh?” Hermione collapsed into the loveseat across from the blonde, the table and laptop serving as a barrier between the two of them. “I’m willing to bet you’ve already gotten your doctorate in immunology as well, don't you?”
“I’m so sorry, Hermione.” Fleur leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. “This isn't -”
“I’m so stupid.” She cut her off, gesturing with one hand between the two. “This whole time you were lying to me, and I was too stupid to see past all the lies.”
“You knew though,” Fleur reached out to touch the other woman's arm, her fingers barely grazing against pale skin before dropping her hand down to the table. “You knew this all along.”
“You’re not sorry, though.” Hermione pressed the back of her hand against her mouth. “You knew who Dr. Leekie was this whole time, intentionally left behind your transcripts where you knew I’d find them. I knew it was bullshit, but I still thought you were on my side.”
Fleur slipped down onto her knees before the table, resting her chin on her folded arms. Her short hair curled against the sides of her head, framing the sides of her head as she looked up at the brunette beseechingly. “You can trust me.”
Hermione rose from her chair again, never taking her eyes off the blonde. “You told Leekie I know about those girls!”
“I had to!” Fleur rose up halfway, reaching out again. “He says you are in danger!”
“Of what?!” Hermione stretched out her arms to gesture at the contents of the room around them, at the many shelves and flat surfaces that were crammed and littered with an untold amount of literature and countless books. “Tell me, Fleur.”
“I…. I don’t…”
“You don't know, do you?”
“...no.”
“Then you're the real danger here, Fleur.”
Hermione breezed past the kneeling blonde, holding her arms close to her chest as she made her way from the front living room into her personal bedroom. Mind made up, she pulled her suitcase from its place in the closet and tossed it onto her bed, stuffing any clean clothing she could easily reach inside. There would be time to get more once she was far away from this place, away from Fleur and whatever mess she had drawn the brunette into.
“Where are you going?” Fleur leaned against the door frame, running her hands across her face and through her hair. It used to be something Hermione liked about the blonde, how her arms would flex with the hint of muscle she usually kept hidden away under lab coats or long sweaters.
“Why, so you can tell Leekie?” The next shirt landed in the suitcase a little more forceful than necessary. Oh well. “What else did you tell him?”
“Nothing!” She entered the room fully, biting her lip as she came to stand at the foot of the bed. “Just the seven names. Nothing about the girl.”
Hermione whipped her head up at that, gaze furious now that Fleur had brought up the topic of Kira. She balled her hands into fists, attempting to keep herself from doing something stupid.
“She's an anomaly, you know.” Fleur continued a little softer, almost as if testing the waters. Too bad she was already bleeding in the water, and Hermione was the shark.
“Fleur, you can use me, that's fine.” There was a pleading tone in Hermione’s voice, a warble that hasn't been there before. “But don't go near that little girl.”
“I didn’t!” She reached for Hermione again, once again brushing her fingers against the side of the other hand. “I won't.”
“Get out!” The muscles in Hermione’s neck strained with the ferocity of her yell, yanking her hand back she pointed at the way the two of them had just come. Pointed at the front door.
“Please listen to me, let me tell you this one thing.” Fleur moved around to the side of the bed Hermione was on, sitting on the mattress besides the half full suitcase. “Just listen to me.”
Hermione moved away from the blonde, keeping distance between the two. Rubbing her nose against the sleeve of her cardigan she turned away from Fleur for a moment before standing with her back against the window; her eyes stung with tears she refused to shed in the moment.
“I wasn't supposed to fall for you, I didn't want to at first.” She bounded on the mattress once, holding her clasped hands between her knees. A small smile pulled at the corner of her lips; her eyes bright in the morning light that poured in from outside. “But I have.”
It should have been a happier occasion, to tell someone you loved them for the first time. In any other situation it would have been the best day of their lives. But not today, not at this moment. Maybe it never would be.
“How can I possibly believe that, Fleur?” Hermione wrapped her arms tighter around herself. There was a ball of fear deep inside, and every passing second it rose higher and higher in her gut.
“Because you feel it too.”
Whatever sob that had been threatening to escape was instead replaced with a snort in contempt.
“This is not… It’s not a lie! It's not possible.” There was that look on Fleur’s face again, that hopeful, puppy-dog look she got from time to time. “You know, I’d never even been with a woman before.”
“Yeah, it showed.” It was harsh, biting even; but if Hermione was hurting then goddamnit she’d make sure Fleur was too.
Fleur closed her mouth with an audible snap, shocked in what she had previously thought as one of her best performances. She looked down at her hands and feet for a moment, feeling the heat of Hermione’s eyes on her all the while. A second passed before she was standing, not looking away from the floor, and turned away from her now ex-lover to retreat back into the living room for her coat and car keys.
Hermione sobbed openly the second after the front door closed behind Fleur, her knees giving out from the combination of stress and heartache. Hot tears spilled across her cheeks, finally freed to run now that she was alone again.
Truly alone, but for how long?