Chapter Text
After the war was over, and Voldemort had been defeated. One would think that here were huge celebrations, feasts or, at least some cries of victory. Nothing could be far away from the truth. The war was over, and it only gave way to mourning. And then everyone just went… home.
Not right away, of course. After all, the castle was in ruins, there were bodies being collected, friends reuniting. But no one was cheering. Everything was covered by a warm blanket of numbness, and it was quiet.
Oh, so quiet that you could hear the sobs that had been once desperate crying, but that had been hours ago, no one had the strength to cry loudly now. Not even Mrs. Weasley, who had not left her son’s side for one second, stiff and cold as he was now. The rest of her family made sure no one bothered her, they helped pick up the hubris, bandage the wounded, and kept tabs on her. Like a good family they always made sure to come back to each other.
Harry was, well, he was finally melting into the background. He had known grief his whole life, and pain, and suffering, he was sort of used to it by now. But it had never been this much, not quite. Before, he had suffered alone, the loss of his parents and his godfather and everyone else. But now there were other who shared his pain. He tried to help as best he could, but he was tired, and it was finally time for him to rest. He fell asleep against a makeshift bed in the corner of a classroom, and no one bothered him. He had done enough.
Only the Weasleys checked up on him now and then, he was part of their family after all. And after a few hours, or maybe days, of trying to make everything look as it was before. Everyone decided it was enough. And they went home. Well, not everyone. Not me, I didn’t have a home to go back to. Haven’t had one for a while.
I haven’t told anyone about erasing my parents’ memories. It just never came up. First, we were busy on our camping trip and then, well, then the war happened. And not once did I think of going back, all I could think was that they were safer without me, they probably still were. It was better if they remained oblivious to this world, to my world. They could never understand it completely, and I never bothered to introduce them properly to it.
First, the students went away, one by one or in groups they said good bye and boarded the train. Back to their families and their warm beds to try and forget. After that, the Weasleys decided it was time to go, they woke up Harry and picked up their dead son and left. And that was that. Ginny promised to write me later, to tell me about the funeral. And I couldn’t tell her right then that there was no address to send the letter to, not anymore. No, I couldn’t do that to them. I just hugged each and everyone of them and said good bye, for now.
Then everyone in order went away. No one was talking, there was no point. A few shared glances, meaningful pats on the back, and they left. Only the teachers were left, to say good bye to their home, promising to come back, after they’d healed enough. Professor McGonagall was the last of them all. And she hugged me, like my mother used to do when I was little and woke her up in the middle of the night because I’ve had a bad dream. She looked at me, her cheeks stained with dried tears, she too had cried herself dry.
She was the one to ask me if I had somewhere to go. Concern in her voice, a step away from taking me back with her, wherever she was going. And I would have said yes, but there was something keeping me back. So, I lied and told her I needed to find Crookshanks before I left, or my parents would ask about him. My voice was hoarse from disuse, and not as loud as I would’ve liked. I think she knew I was lying but left me be. It was the kindest choice for her to take. So, I hugged her again, a bit tighter this time, and said goodbye. And then she too was gone.
I wandered aimlessly through the empty halls, not even a ghost had stayed. It was odd, in a way, everything was fixed and there was no trace of a war being battled here at all. But it held an air of loneliness, a touch of death, and a whisper of sadness. After a while I went out to the grounds, I couldn’t bare to go back to the common room yet, knowing that it was empty.
I was walking near the lake on a detour to Hagrid’s cabin, a route I had learned by heart from years of walking it. I was going to check if there was any creature left caged that wouldn’t have an owner to feed them, just so I could free them and know that there was absolutely no one left but me. But on my way there I spotted something neat the lake. It was a person, a woman. With talons for hands and a beak and wings coming out of her back, and feathers all over the place, it would have been a beautiful sight were the feathers not covered in blood, if her eyes hadn’t looked so hollow.
What was she doing here? Wasn’t she a Weasley now? She should’ve left with them. Without my mind knowing it, my feet carried me to her. She was looking at nothing, as if she was lost. Trying to get a closer look, I almost tripped on my feet, it was enough for her to notice me. Her black eyes focused on me, but she didn’t move. She just stared. And I couldn’t help but feel as if she couldn’t recognize who I was. I made my blood cold, and I wondered if this was what it would be like if I ever encountered my parents again. Maybe I was right.
As I crept closer, she just moved her head to the side with a curious expression, not moving, not making a noise. She didn’t act like Fleur, she was more like a bird, she reminded me of Buckbeak when Hagrid brought him to class the first time, silently cautious, but deadly. I tried to remember what I could about those lessons, making a poor excuse for a vow, hoping it was enough. I lifted my head back up and she was closer, not as guarded as before, and more curious. I took my chances at talking, hoping my voice wasn’t as bad as before.
“Fleur” I said, “What are you doing here still?”
She wouldn’t answer, of course, I can’t imagine she could make any words, French or otherwise, not with a beak for a mouth. But she seemed to pause at the name, as if it ringed a bell to her. Like a puppy learning their own name. She creeped closer to me and lowered her head. And I caressed her feathers, softly. Speaking only in whispers this time.
“Fleur” I called again, “What’s happened to you now?”
After a while we sat by the lake, Fleur curling up with her head on my lap. Eventually, she fell asleep. And as I looked over her, feathers gave way to platinum blonde hair and her wings disappeared. Her talons were hands again, and her mouth was no longer a beak. We stayed like that a bit longer, I couldn’t dare to wake her up, not when she looked so angelic, and young. It was then that I remembered she was only two or three years older than me. Soldiers for a war at such a young age. We were all so young.
When the sun was about to go down, I cast a levitating spell and carried her in, placing her on a bed at the infirmary. Who looked as though it was just a peaceful day at school, everything was back as it should be. I put Fleur down, gently, and I covered her with a blanket, she had always said Hogwarts was too cold. I casted a warming spell over her just in case.
I was about to go look for my cat when she caught my wrist. She didn’t hold me with any strength, not that I would have been able to resist. I let her pull me down to the bed with her, and I realized just how tired I was. I didn’t have time to ponder about what was happening, what would come next, my eyelids felt heavy and I succumbed to a dreamless sleep.
—
I woke up with a quarter veela curled up into me, her head laying on top of my shoulder and her arm around my waist. It was like those other times, back in Shell Cottage, when I would wake screaming and not knowing where I was, with my arm burning with pain. She held me just the same back then, protecting me from the darkness, helping me heal.
I didn’t dare move in fear of waking her up. But Crookshanks decided it was time for breakfast and he came up to us to demand someone feed him. It was strange, even his demeanour seemed duller than before, as if he too was weighed down by the grief and the exhaustion of this war. Fleur stirred and looked up at me. She didn’t say a word. She stood and went out of the infirmary, my cat following.
When I caught up with them, Crookshanks was already eating, Fleur was in the kitchen rummaging to the food that was left there. She managed to make two sandwiches out of something and gave one to me. It tasted like nothing, but it filled my stomach, besides, I had spent too many nights on the run to deny any kind of food. We ate in silence.
“Why are you still here?” Fleur asked after a while, I was busying myself by making the bed we had slept in.
“I could ask you the same thing” I said, trying to deflect her questioning. But she just stared at me with those curious eyes. Though they were not pitch black now, but blue. So blue that I felt I could drown in them if I stared long enough. Eventually, I gave in.
“I have nowhere else to go now.” I said.
“No home to go back to? What about your parents?” She wasn’t demanding in the way she asked, she sounded concerned.
“I…” I took a deep breath, “They don’t know who I am. I made them forget, for their safety.”
She just stared at me again, but her eyes seemed less bright, as if she was hurting just like me. But she said nothing, just watched me make the bed. Until she decided the silence had been enough.
“A full blooded veela has full control of her transformation, the perfect balance between belle and beast. It is dangerous for someone with diluted blood to attempt a full transformation, as they have less control and can get stuck in that savage state.”
I looked her in the eyes, the question clear in mine. Then why did you do it?
“I was more useful in that state. I was willing to follow through with any consequences of my actions. You must understand, if I hadn’t tried anything I could, I would have ended up feeling-“
“-useless.” I finished, I knew the feeling. “Fleur, no one would’ve judged you for not doing what you ended up doing.”
Fleur scoffed at this, her icy demeanour shining through, just a bit. “They hated me, I just wanted to prove myself.” She paused. “I thought I had it under control, but then- There were so many bodies and I- I just gave up, to insanity.” She had a glazed look in her eyes. Lost in her memories.
“But you brought me back.” She looked right at me now, as if she could see my very soul. “Thank you, Hermione.”
I was speechless for a moment. Had I really done anything? I would have to research more about half veelas later, when I regained my spirits and my passion for learning. For now, whatever Fleur wanted to share with me was enough.
“It’s okay Fleur, you brought me back too, when I lost myself.” My hand went up to caress my arm, I could still feel the scars even if they were hidden by my long sleeves.
“I guess, in a way, we saved each other” And that was that.
I spent some time wandering the halls again, entertaining the thought that I would become one of many ghosts that live here. They were all gone now, waiting for the smell of death to dissipate before the school could have a fresh start. I wasn’t sure what Fleur’s plans were, whether going to the Weasley house or back to France, but I knew she would leave soon, there was nothing here for her to do.
I came back from my stroll to find her by the front gate, Crookshanks in her arms. It was odd. For a cat who seemed to hate everyone, he sure seemed to be comfortable. I was readying myself for yet another goodbye, however temporary it may be.
“Come to France with me.” Was the first thing she said, as if she had been rehearsing it.
“What would I do there?” I asked. There was nothing else to do.
“You could- “Fleur seemed to be going over what she wanted to say, “you could heal there, Hermione. The change of scene might help you. I cannot leave knowing that you will stay here, alone. With the memories of death still clinging to the walls of this place. It won’t do you any good.”
She looked at me expectantly, but I couldn’t find any words. What did she want me to say?
“Please, Hermione. If not for your sake, then do it for me. If I told you that I needed you near, would you come then?” She was sounding a little desperate now, but I just couldn’t make head or tails of the situations. Then again, I had nothing else to do. So, I nodded, and the next thing I knew we were at the Delacour manor, waiting for the door to open.
A blonde woman, who surely looked younger than she was, opened the door in a hurry. Her french questioning halting when she saw just who was standing before her. Tears gave way to words of love as she brought her daughter closer to her, not letting go as if to make sure Fleur was truly there.
“My dear Fleur, I thought I had lost you” It was then that she noticed me, and a flash of recognition crossed her eyes.
“You” she said, “You brought her back.”
I had no idea how she could have known that just by looking at me, but I was still trying to process how it was that I had ended up here. It was to heal, I reminded myself, and to help Fleur.
And maybe, I thought quietly to myself, to find a home.