Fleur/Hermione

Hermione groaned as she fought against waking up. For the first time in her life, as far as her recollection was concerned, she had never struggled to wake up. She was always up and ready to go at her day the second she woke up. She didn’t consider herself a morning person, much willing to sleep in if she could afford to, but she was still able to wake up early when called for. So, Hermione was completely baffled as to why she felt so sluggish and like she couldn’t even attempt to move herself out of bed if she even wanted to.

Hermione attempted to crawl out of her bed and face her day, but her muscles just wouldn’t cooperate with her. Plus, her bed was just much more comfortable than she could even remember it being and with how she felt, she wanted nothing to do with the day. She wanted to stay in bed with her silk sheets, sheets that made her feel she was lying on a cloud. She would never regret buying luxury like silk sheets if she could be this comfortable whenever she wakes up. She would need to remember to buy some next time she was out.

Wait…

While Hermione had definitely amassed a small fortune from her efforts in the war and all the events that came to light that she and her two best friends had to deal with while in school, something she was internally happy the Ministry took full responsibility for and not Hogwarts, she never spent her money on something like fancy sheets that weren’t really needed. There were much better things her money could go towards besides something she wouldn’t even be awake to really enjoy it.

Hermione forced herself to open her eyes. The room was thankfully dark, as much as the heavy curtains would allow, but her eyes still fought against her wants. It was almost like she had weights on her eyelids, it took a lot more effort than she would have liked to admit to keep her eyes open.

Once she could see in front of her, Hermione almost wished she hadn’t opened her eyes in the first place.

Her senses were assaulted with her surroundings. As if her other senses were relaxing and ignoring the outside world, at least until her eyes were open. She was slightly distressed to realize she had a hangover headache starting to form; thankfully a simple potion would fix it. What she was more concerned about was what simple potions wouldn’t be able to fix: she was definitely not in her room.

Hermione’s body tensed as she took in the white and light blue aesthetics of the room. It was a much more posh room than she was used to. Everything in it made Hermione feel she would break it or tarnish its’ clearly expensive status if she just touched it. She would normally never be in a place like this if she could avoid it.

Hermione was trying to work up the nerve to get out of bed to explore where she was and try to figure out how she had gotten there, when she realized two things.

The first was, she was naked.

There wasn’t a stitch of clothing on her! No wonder why she could feel the silk sheets so easily; there wasn’t a barrier to her skin. Hermione never slept without night clothes on; she always had something on. Even if it was just an old shirt and shorts, she always slept with clothes on; especially since her boys sometimes just ‘popped in’ to visit… even if it was really late and she was trying to sleep. Ron never seemed to realize just because he had just gotten off a late shift and he wanted to talk about it, didn’t mean everyone else was waiting on pins and needles to listen to him. So, going to bed naked was the last thing Hermione would ever do, much less going to bed naked not in her own bed.

With everything going through her head about her lack of clothes and her whereabouts, that wasn’t the most astonishing thing she had come to realize. Neither of those facts were even the most troubling of the realizations she had come to.

It was the arm around her waist that was giving her problems.

She knew it was a female behind her because there was no way a male could have such a… plush chest. At least from Hermione’s experience, men typically didn’t coushiny chests.

The arm around her, while lax as the owner was still asleep, was tighter than she expected. She felt as if, if she were to try and get out of the bed, the arm would immediately tighten and hold her still. The arm felt both restrictive and protective at the same time. She wasn’t sure how she felt about that.

With a deep breath, Hermione gathered her Gryffindor courage and very slowly, she wasn’t completely careless like most Gryffindor’s after all, she started to crawl out of the bed.

As predicted, she had barely started to move when she felt the arm pull her tighter against the woman behind her. Hermione’s face went bright red as she felt more of the woman than she had ever felt from someone before.

“It is much too early to be awake mon amour, sleep more.” The woman husked in her ear, not helping with Hermione’s blush.

Well, at least Hermione knew who was behind her. She just needed to figure out how she ended up in bed with the French woman.

Fleur tightened her grip in what felt like a silent command to Hermione to stay put. Quite honestly, Hermione was in no hurry to leave the bed and protective sheets until she had clothes on; or at least a way to remain safely covered from French eyes.

All Hermione remembered from the previous night was going out with her boys to celebrate their graduation from the academy and becoming probationary aurors. She remembered buying a round of drinks and talking with Neville and Luna about something the pair had seen on their most recent trip. Hermione couldn’t remember any of it. She did remember Fleur being there, not when she arrived or how she ended up with Fleur.

“Tell me Fleur,” Hermione started, unsure of exactly what she wanted to say but a very un-lady like grunt from the blonde behind her somehow encouraged to forge ahead, “Why am I here?”

Hermione would later tease Fleur about her lack of filter and grace that she always touted. Fleur would always claim Fleur was perfectly eloquent and got her message across just fine, that it was just Hermione’s poor memory that tarnished the loving memory.

“You are here because you are adorable, you are beautiful and you are mine now.” Fleur said as she nuzzled her face into Hermione’s shoulder, “Now hush, I am trying to sleep until at least noon and then we can talk. But not now, now we cuddle and sleep and nothing more.”

Well, as much as Hermione wanted to talk and get her answers. Fleur wasn’t wrong. She was very comfortable. Importantly, she was covered. She was also still tired.

She would worry about what would happen when they were both awake enough to get out of bed later. At that moment, Hermione was happy to stay asleep in Fleur’s arms; who knows, perhaps Fleur was on to something.