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Finding herself about to hit the ground too hard was nothing new to Hermione, not even when she materialized in an unexpected place. Her shoulder roll was near-perfect, even if she had to let go of the healer's kit, and she followed the roll by springing back onto her feet, wand in hand, and disillusioning herself. Her heart, however, faltered under the onslaught of emotions that came once she took a good look at her surroundings.
She wasn't in the castle. She was inside some hedge maze, too far away from the battle. Her jump missed her target. Her heart broke a bit more.
But her reflexes, acquired during the long war, dropped her body to the ground and into shadows the moment her brain heard the footsteps.
Viktor!
She only saw him for a split of a second and then he was behind another hedge, moving away, but that one look shook her to her core. His clothes were wrong, his whole appearance was wrong, and Hermione's brain instantly connected the dots in a horrified understanding. She wasn't simply in a wrong place. She was in a wrong time, years before the battle. For some unfathomable reason, her ritual flung her into the night Voldemort returned.
Viktor was still in the game and that meant this was the last night of the Triwizard Tournament. She was sharing the maze with Harry, Fleur, Viktor, Cedric and a Death Eater polyjuiced to look like Alastor Moody. Her original plan did not require any paradox but she had no idea how much damage she might cause if she tried to change events she remembered. Seconds ticked by.
"Avada"
Murderous green light, flaring up behind two or three hedgerows to Hermione's right. Hermione's body hitting the ground, wand aimed, a blasting charm on her lips. Hedges exploding, leaves turning into a dark mist, branches becoming splinters. A dark silhouette revealed, the deadly green charm already aimed.
"Kedavra!"
The Killing Curse wasn't aimed at Hermione. But she could see Bartemius turning and she took the only chance she saw. There was no hiding from Moody's magical eye, no disillusionment that could conceal her. The eye would see her whatever she might try. Dodging was unreliable. So she did the only thing left and poured all her power into one quick and simple spell, closing her eyes and shielding them with her left hand.
"LUMOS!"
Light, light far brighter than a summer's day, cast a myriad shadows and burned a painful afterimage into Crouch's brain. For a brief moment, the power of Moody's all-seeing eye became his weak spot.
"Stupefy!"
Hermione might have recovered faster but Crouch was no sitting duck. Even blinded for a moment, he too dived and dodged the charm aimed at him. And then it was almost his turn.
"stupefy."
"Stupefy!"
Crouch reacted with blinding speed, moving with the second syllable of the first incantation, dodging the spell coming from behind him, his own attack interrupted. But the charm distracted him and Hermione's second stunner hit him square on. And she continued.
"Stupefy!"
That was another lesson, learned during the years of fighting for way more than just her own life. Hermione wasn't going to take any chances, firing one more stunner into Crouch's limp body. It was only then that she let herself relax a bit and she stood up, squinting into the darkness once again ruling the maze. She'd never forget the silhouette she saw trying to get up.
"Fleur?"
Sprinting towards the blonde, Hermione felt her heart sing with joy. Fleur was alive! She must have dodged the Killing Curse, or maybe the blasting hex threw Crouch's aim off, but the actual reason wasn't that important.
"Hermione? What are you doing here? And what happened to you?"
Eleven years and a war, flashed through Hermione's mind.
"No time to explain. Why did Crouch try to kill you, Fleur?"
"I don't know! I simply dodged when I saw the flash of a charm being cast! What's happening here?!?"
Hermione's voice was strained but under control.
"I would love to know myself."
He never tried to kill Fleur in the timeline I remember, so did he try because Moody's eye let him see me arrive? Is the timeline already damaged beyond repair?
But she would never say that out loud. She had to think.
"Expecto Patronum!"
Casting the Patronus charm hasn't been this easy for years, not with Hermione's happy thoughts often ruined by sorrow. This time, her silvery otter sprang into being with seemingly no effort, despite everything Hermione's been through during the last few minutes.
"Go find Harry, tell him to never touch the cup and wait for me!"
But the otter just sat there, confused, uncertain. Something was wrong.
"Go find the Headmaster, tell him to stop the Tournament!"
More confusion, more inaction.
"Can you find my dad?"
Nothing but a twitching silvery nose.
"Fleur? Do you know what wards the Headmaster placed here?"
"Not really. But I never forget my debts, Hermione. Harry needs help? Let's find him!"
Of course, Harry saved Gabrielle. Fleur would throw away the Cup and try to save him from whatever danger he might be in. But this was far beyond her abilities. And Hermione, her soul filling with a horrified realization of what she had to do, could never let Fleur throw her life away. She took a deep breath.
"Fleur? There's something incredibly dangerous that I have to do, something you can't help with tonight. More likely than not, we'll never meet again. But there's one thing I want to ask of you. Never, no matter what happens now, doubt that following your heart and accepting love is the right thing to do. Can you do that for me?"
There were shock, concern, and confusion on Fleur's face. But then she swallowed and nodded.
"Oui, Hermione. Is there something I *can* do?"
Stay alive, was the unstoppable thought.
"Get help, get them to the entrance to the maze. Tell them that the man who looks like Alastor Moody is Bartemius Crouch Jr. and he's a polyjuiced Death Eater. Tell them that The One Who Must Not Be Named is returning. Tell them I did my best to prevent that. Tell my parents I love them."
And then, before Fleur's shocked and hurt expression could stop her, Hermione apparated into Little Hangleton's graveyard.
****
"Harry, the Cup is a portkey."
A split of a second later, Cedric's head snapped towards the source of an unexpected sound, while Harry's voice continued on for a moment.
"I've been here-"
It took Hermione maybe one second to realize she was nearly too late.
"Harry! Get to the Cup!"
Harry's head turned towards Hermione with adrenaline-powered speed.
"Hermione?!?"
But she couldn't waste a single second explaining and her body was just as full of adrenaline as Harry's as she sprinted towards him.
"Just trust me!"
She made it obvious she wanted to grab his hand and Harry, following instincts gained over the last few years, began to move even before she reached him, ignoring her aged look, syncing his steps with hers, his next question swallowed the moment he heard Hermione speak again.
"Cedric! We both have to touch the Cup at the same time! Get ready!"
For a moment, Hermione thought they might make it. Cedric was ready, his wand in his right hand, his eyes scanning the area, his left hand hovering over the Cup. Ten more steps, nine, eight...
The sound of creaking door. Hermione's terrified expression telling Cedric this was no game, spurring the Quidditch captain into action.
"Protego!"
Four, three, two... No more time to lose. Hermione's hand reaching for the Cup...
"Now!"
"Aaagh!"
Harry's pain made him stumble and bend over and Hermione, holding onto Harry's hand, nearly lost her footing. Cedric, following her command, his eyes focused on Pettigrew, grabbed the Cup. And vanished.
Hermione knew what would happen. And she knew she was in no condition to fight a second Death Eater and win. She couldn't apparate away either, not after jumping through time, fighting Crouch and apparating *into* the graveyard, all within the span of but a few minutes. She could never prevent Voldemort from returning. Fighting would get her killed. Keeping as close to the original timeline as possible was her best chance of keeping Harry alive. So the only viable option she saw for herself was an unreliable, dangerous trick, one she only had a chance to pull off thanks to her study of Harry's Cloak of Invisibility. It would be wandless, wordless magic, magic she would have to pour everything she had left into. Her first charm went off, harmless and unnoticed. The other two had to be timed just right and they were certain to drain her.
But it was her only chance. She was ready. She came into this time ready for battle, even if for a different one, and her hand found the candy containing Invigoration paste.
"Kill the intruder."
That was her clue and she began to move.
"Avada"
She dropped into a side roll *towards* Pettigrew, her wand close to her chest.
"Kedavra."
The green curse hit her body with so much energy it reversed her movement, sending it rolling back chaotically, and burned the grass around where it hit her.
A second later, the illusion of her dead body rolled itself onto her real body, the disillusioned one sprawled face down and unconscious from her efforts, and both charms vanished.
It wouldn't have fooled Voldemort if he was already restored. And a lasting illusion would have likely been noticed too soon. But an illusion cast for only a brief moment, while the enemy is casting the Killing Curse, can be enough. There's little need to immediately check the body of someone you saw hit by that curse, unless you're trying to kill Harry Potter. You know nobody else has ever survived getting hit.
But you can survive getting missed. And if you've charmed yourself the right way, your seemingly dead body won't even breathe for a few minutes.
****
"Don't touch her!"
Maybe it had been Voldemort's foot on her hair, maybe simply the short rest, maybe Harry's voice. The reason didn't matter. The important thing was that although exhausted and dazed, Hermione became groggily aware of the scene unfolding next to her before it was too late.
Her thoughts were slow and clumsy, her body hurt, the effect of the oxygenating charm wouldn't last much longer. But the Invigoration candy slipped into her mouth unnoticed and she began to breathe. Slowly, and into the belly she was laying on, but enough to extend the effect of the oxygenating charm. Enough to let the candy send energy into her body.
Nobody paid her any attention. She was nothing but a dead body, one wearing clothes charmed to help her stay unnoticed because one rarely travels years back in Time wishing to get noticed. However, she was a dead body whose magical strength was slowly returning. Give her a minute or two and she might be strong enough to apparate away. A minute more and she'd be able to apparate away two.
She never thought she'd be almost happy to listen to Voldemort talking, as his every word gave her more time to recover.
Her weary brain kept searching itself for every word Harry ever said about this night, terrified her presence might have changed something too much.
But it seemed like she managed to insert herself into Cedric's place without noticeably changing the unfolding scene.
And when Harry's and Voldemort's wands connected in Priori Incantatem, she allowed herself a small breath of relief. She knew she would have her chance to get to Harry and apparate them both to safety.
"Harry, when the connection is broken, get to your friend, she's still alive. We can linger for a moment to give you some time, but only a moment. Do you understand?"
Harry's nod.
"Let go. Sweetheart, you're ready, and so is she. Let go. Let go!"
Hermione couldn't hear what the ghosts said to Harry over the noise of the duel. But her lungs were full of air, ready to scream at Harry the moment he could act, and her body was ready to launch itself towards him. So when the connection between the two wands broke and she saw Harry running towards her, her mind screamed in joy and relief. And her body screamed too.
"Harry, grab my hand!"
Vomiting after an almost-botched high-speed apparition never felt this good before.
****
Hermione was only peripherally aware of familiar figures a few steps away from her and of Harry being sick next to her. She apparated Harry and herself to the entrance into the maze, aiming for a spot high enough in the air to arrive safely above anyone's head, but her knee met Professor Flitwick's left hand on her way to the ground and while she felt sorry for that, his presence made her feel safe enough to let her emptying stomach take priority.
So it took getting hit by a spell, even if one causing no apparent effect, to make her refocus on her surroundings. She saw Hagrid, Viktor, Flitwick, McGonagall-
"Glad to see you are not a polyjuiced impostor yourself, Miss Granger. Or maybe a different charm would tell us you *are* somebody else?"
That was Dumbledore's gentle and thoughtful voice, coming from behind Hermione. So she turned towards him and froze, the sight of her younger self delivering the fatal blow to the remains of her hope that her plan would not turn into a total fiasco. She saw her younger self wearing Gryffindor colours, not the blue-trimmed robe that used to be her own. That couldn't have been caused by her own time-jump. She wasn't simply in a wrong time. She was also in a wrong universe. But Dumbledore, noticing her surprise, waited for her to find her voice again.
"I am Hermione Granger, Headmaster, but I am afraid I am not my older self."
Hermione accompanied the end of her sequence by a nod in her younger counterpart's direction. However, before anyone could react to her words, Harry too recovered from his ordeal and the following apparition.
"He's back. He's back! Voldemort's back!"
Silence and shock. Dumbledore's voice, sneaking into Hermione's head, bypassing her ears.
"I can see who you are now, Miss Granger, but please play along for a moment here."
And then his lips moved and his voice became audible.
"Those are grave news, everyone, and time might be of essence. Minerva, would you please take care of the Tournament? Harry, Miss Tonks, if you would accompany me into my office?"
The following apparition at least had the advantage of Hermione's stomach being empty.
****
"We're not really the same person, are we? Similar, but not the same, right?"
Hermione's younger counterpart seemed both shaken and determined when she walked into the dark classroom, her first words confirming the train of thought that appeared on her face the moment she noticed Hermione's Ravenclaw pin back at the maze. And she didn't stop.
"The Headmaster said you have less than an hour left before you go back into your own world, given how long it took you to tell him and Harry everything important. They told me you've hopefully saved countless lives. So why talk to me now, instead of telling them more about the war? Talked enough to run into problems arising from our worlds being too different?"
Hermione felt exhausted, both physically and emotionally. The physical exhaustion was not that bad, as charms and potions took care of most of it hours ago. But the emotional exhaustion was a different beast. She failed to save her own Fleur and her mistakes prevented her from disrupting Voldemort's return in this reality.
"Of course I would tell them more if I thought I knew anything worthwhile. But you're right, your world if different from mine and we got to a point where my information might do more harm than good. Is this your way of telling me you're angry I did what I did?"
Her younger self was obviously pumped up to give her a piece of her mind.
"Angry is a word that doesn't even begin to fit. I have no idea what possessed you to make you take such insane risks! You know how dangerous Time Turners are and this is worse! You really thought you wouldn't create a paradox or cause some other trouble?"
This was the kind of questions she expected herself to ask, and she didn't mind answering, but she had to know a thing or two before doing so.
"How much do you know about how I got here?"
This earned her younger Hermione's rolling eyes, followed by voice mixing anger with derision.
"Just the one-minute version so far, of course, but you should understand that's enough. You're Ravenclaw, don't tell me you don't see what a Gryffindor can."
The bitter chuckle that escaped Hermione's mouth made the listening Gryffindor's face reshape into a confused one for a moment.
"If you're anything like me, Hermione, you'll understand. I tried to save Fleur and I'm more than ninety-nine percent certain a time traveler stole her body when she fell. My ritual had every safeguard I could think of to make sure I don't disrupt my timeline and I'd guess me being here is proof I didn't. And why? You already understand this war and it got much worse in my world and Fleur became the one person who always gave me the strength to fight on, Hermione. She was my safe haven, my love, the embrace that always reminded me why I fight. I know this might sound like the war was the force that glued us together but trust me, it was not. It took us two years to get from our first kiss to knowing we would marry and stay married. The war tried to destroy our love and I refuse to let that happen."
Younger Hermione's voice turned thoughtful, her expression softened, her gaze focused onto her counterpart's left hand.
"You really loved her, didn't you? I kept wondering if that's an engagement ring."
A simple nod.
"So what was it like? And how did everyone react to it?"
The obvious implications surprised Hermione.
"Wait, I wasn't really in love with Fleur at your age. You think I'm pushing you... Or are you already..."
The answer was a resolute, if a little embarrassed, shaking of her younger version's head in denial.
"No, I'm not! But you make it sound really nice and, I don't know, loving?"
Her younger counterpart's voice gradually becoming more gentle and understanding made Hermione's brain recall both her happiness and the crushing despair of her loss. Knowing her legs wouldn't support her for much longer, she slumped down onto the floor, resting her back against a wall. Then her hands found their place on her knees and her head flopped onto them.
"It was. I wasn't even sure I'm gay when I was your age, so I know you probably aren't sure either, and I have no idea whether the you from this reality is, in fact gay, but she was so worth it. I know some call it pride. They tell me I should move on. But I don't care how long it will take, I plan to find a way to make a Resurrection Stone anyway. I just want my Fleur back."
Tears in her eyes, because there was no-one there who she would have to keep her guard up around.
"Some say it was the war. Made us need the love, the closeness, the hope. Whatever. You want to know how much I love her? I went and studied the Dark Arts, to see if I could somehow create a Light-side clone of those secrets that would help me save her! I'd never use Dark Arts to get her back, of course, but I actually studied the principles!"
Hermione's head went up, her tear-filled eyes staring into her younger face.
"I'll never stop trying. I did all I could to help your world, Hermione, but I'll soon go back into mine and one day I'll save her!"
****
The empty-again classroom brought back even more memories. Of course, Hermione knew this wasn't *her* Hogwarts, but the place was a near-perfect copy. Luckily, Cedric walked in before she would cry again. And he spoke first, his voice constrained but determined.
"Hermione... I don't know why you wished to talk to me but I do know I first have to thank you. I don't think I would have survived facing the Dark Lord. I'm sorry for leaving you behind and I want to assure you I only did that because I thought you'd touch the Cup too."
He paused to take a breath and Hermione interrupted him.
"This is why I wanted to talk to you. Could you do me a favor and listen for a while?"
A simple nod, even if a bit surprised one.
"I want you to know that I don't think you ran away. Do you know who I saw tonight? I saw a man who could have grabbed the cup and vanished, but he didn't. I saw a man who refused to abandon us, I saw a Hogwarts student face a Death Eater and keep up a Protego instead of portkeying away. I know I'm the one who told you to touch the Cup."
She saw Cedric breathe in to speak up and then breath out again when her gesture told him to wait.
"Yes, I know a part of you feels you're a coward, a failure, someone others might hate, despise or pity. But if there's one thing I might ask of you, it is that you don't let today's events make you hate yourself or the people around you. Talk to the Headmaster, I'm sure he will help you understand. Can you do that for me?"
Cedric's face was a mixture of gratitude and concern.
"I see... I'll follow your advice, Miss Granger, but I do have to ask. What did the Cedric from your world do to make you tell me this, given how little time you have left here?"
A flash of confusion on Hermione's face, immediately replaced by sadness.
"He did nothing wrong, Cedric. He died that night. I'm talking to you because you're alive and so am I and I know all too well what being the one who survived feels like."
The memories hurt but she pushed on, her voice filling with emotion.
"I lost count of how many times I've been saved by others, Cedric. Too many good people died so that I could live. I know what having to run away feels like. I saw people die because I was too slow, or too stupid, or too weak, and I knew it would happen again and again. Our war has ended years ago and yet I'm still having nightmares that make me relive my failures. And do you know what my failures taught me? That I have to get better because that way fewer people will die next time, whether or not I survive that next time."
One more short pause. Not to catch her breath, but to find the energy to go on.
"The war is upon you now, Cedric. Failure is not an option. Failure is inevitable. The only option you have is whether you let your failures diminish you, or teach you. You managed to keep up with Harry even with the Tournament rigged in his favor, Cedric, and you can surely see you all will need Harry to win this war. So I will speak openly now. You're a Hufflepuff. You do understand your friendship, help, and loyalty could mean a lot, even if Harry remains the most famous one of you all, don't you? Trust me, I know what I'm talking about, I'm a part of his legend myself."
****
She only had to cast Glacius two times to put out the fires that flared up as a result of her quite likely botched ritual, and one Mending charm was enough to deal with most of the damage. Everything else could wait, because what she really needed was a cup of hot chocolate. Sitting on her bed, her knees under her chin, her fluffiest blanket helping her feel warm again, Hermione took her first sip of her favorite Dementor-exposure treatment, which was equally good for many other ailments of the soul.
Yes, she made a mistake. She didn't know what the mistake was, but knowing there was one was a good start. Because there's one amazing thing about time travel. Unless you really screw things up, you get to try again. Fleur was still back there, bleeding but alive. Somebody made her body disappear and Hermione was going to make sure that that somebody was her saving Fleur.
The doorbell surprised her a bit. She wasn't expecting anyone, not on this day. She made *sure* nobody would bother her, not unless there was a real and pressing need. Sighing, she abandoned her warm fortress and headed towards the door. Her old reflexes, reawakened by the events of her day, made her open her door from a distance.
She saw another copy of herself, this one about her own age, beside a similarly aged Fleur. The Hermione wore a Gryffindor tie and both women were smiling in a friendly way and showing her left hands on which, in addition to differing wedding rings, there were two matching rings, similar to the one she wore. And she knew.
"Hello, I guess I should have remembered I told you when I went back. Why don't you come in?"
It was Fleur who spoke up.
"Hello, Hermione. We would love to, but that can wait for a moment. Remember when I told you I never forget my debts? And Hermione, what you did for us goes far beyond gratitude that can be expressed by words alone. Yes, some of us died, despite your help. But dozens more lived and many of us wished to repay your help. So we sought a way to do so. I hope you'll like the result. Cedric?"
Hermione and Fleur stepping aside to let another group into view. Closest to the door-frame, a girl, maybe six years old, dressed like a princess, her smiling face focusing on Hermione. Her eyes those of Cho Chang. Her right hand holding an adult's walking stick, her left hand holding onto the second figure's robes. A tall and handsome Auror, his right hand bandaged and in a sling, an old scar on his cheek. A third figure, almost hidden behind Cedric at first. The whole group turning towards Hermione's door, revealing, holding onto Cedric's left hand, a much younger Fleur. Fleur wearing that muggle sundress she bought-
HER Fleur!
For a moment, Hermione could do nothing but stare. She knew that face, she *knew* those eyes, and she loved that dress. Dress short enough to let Hermione see where Fleur's right leg ended, just above her knee, and a silver-and-ivory prosthesis, magically meshed into Fleur's soft skin, began. Sleeves short enough to reveal a dozen scars on Fleur's right hand. Moving her gaze from the damage back to Fleur's face, Hermione saw a mixture of hope and fear and her heart both broke a bit and exploded with joy.
Her eyes filling with tears, Hermione moved so fast it felt like another apparition and then her Fleur was in her arms and the smell of her hair filled Hermione's world. Eight years of grief, eight years of self-blaming, eight years of living with a wound in her heart she feared would never heal. All the ice in Hermione's soul was melting in Fleur's warm, living embrace.
Fleur's lips, so close to her neck, wordlessly asking a needless question. Those same warm lips on Hermione's own, tasting of love and each other's tears. Whispers she'd never be able to recall again. Hermione had no idea how long it took her to begin believing her Fleur was alive and back in her arms, but after about three eternities later, she made a valiant effort to wipe away her tears and turned towards the wide-eyed girl, her left hand never letting go of Fleur's right.
"Sorry about that. Hello, I'm Hermione. Can you tell me your name?"
" 'ello, aunt Hermione. How come your aunt Fleur is not a defective one?"
Cedric jumped in before she could think of a reply, his voice warm and hiding a bit of laughter.
"Hermione, I'll explain about defective later. For now, please allow me to introduce you to Her Highness, princess Hermione Diggory."
The girl lowered her eyes a bit and mumbled.
" 's my birthday today, Aunt Hermione."
Hearing that, Hermione pulled herself back to her full height and let her face light up in a smile so happy it made the girl smile back despite Hermione's still visible tears.
"Well, I guess we better make this a birthday party you'll never forget! Fleur, do you think we can turn our cottage into a place worthy of welcoming Her Highness?"
Fleur's voice, still laden with emotions, was a joy in Hermione's ears.
"Absolutely. So how about we all get in and do so? And don't worry about the defective bit, love, I already know the story."
****
"So let me get this straight. You actually told Betty Braithwaite, a Daily Prophet reporter, that the reason you two are not a couple is that you're defective?"
Little Hermione was working her way through a Cauldron Cake, feeding every other spoonful to Cedric, and the other Fleur took the opportunity to explain why she was considered defective.
"Look, I was tired of so many people thinking we belonged together, and I wanted to take some heat off of Hermione, and I hoped this might shut Braithwaite up. Most people *are* hetero, so calling myself defective should give their brains a hiccup. It worked, kind of. And don't forget our Hermione here was still keeping her relationship with Luna a secret."
With her own Fleur snuggled into her left side, Hermione kept on questioning the other Fleur.
"Okay, I can see the logic. But surely that's not enough to make the idea a running joke, or is it?"
The other Fleur, although still willing to talk, was showing the first signs of embarrassment.
"A week later, one of your fangirls, and trust me you gained many when your story went public after the war, slipped me a Love Potion antidote, thinking Bill must have used one on me to lure me away from my predestined love, that is from our world's Hermione. I'm afraid I got so angry I turned the fangirl into a sheep, right there in the restaurant, and I yelled that they all better believe I've always been this defective and that I love men and that I've never been and never will be into girls. I was so furious even some people on the street heard me, loud and clear."
"Well, that sure sounds..."
"There's more. By that time, we were already working on finding a way to save Fleur. Two days after the sheep fiasco, we had the whole Wizengamot questioning us during a budget hearing, and an idiot kept asking me about allegations Hermione and I were having an affair."
There was no mistaking the red on Fleur's cheeks now.
"I kind of lost it and explained to him, quite loudly I might add, that I will gladly tell the whole world I'm the defective one who's not gay. I told him I'll gladly buy a whole-page ad in the Prophet saying the same thing if it will help convince him I go for men, even if not such as him. Now imagine how many reporters were present and what they did with such gems. Fred and George, being the pranksters they are, actually bought such an ad the next day. Do I have to go on?"
The whole story filled Hermione with a growing sense of small-scale doom.
"Not really. I'm already imagining us here telling the reporters our story."
She felt her Fleur gripping her hand tighter and she leaned in for a quick and reassuring kiss.
"Especially once they hear we still plan to marry."
****
Their guest were gone, the dust disturbed by their disappearance still settling, and Hermione turned towards Fleur and pulled her into another tight embrace.
"I'm still amazed so many people spent so many years trying to save you themselves, Fleur, hoping they could get you to me as soon as I came back from their own world. Harry and Ginny, Ron and Gabrielle, Hermione and Luna, Fleur and Bill, Cedric and Cho, Neville, Fred, George and Angelina, Dean, Nymphadora and Remus, Lee, Viktor, even their professor Snape. We have to visit their world again and thank them all. They *realized* the reason I ended up in their world was me trying the ritual alone and not being able to control the vortex precisely enough once I got inside it. I never *intended* to help them, it was just blind luck I landed there. And they worked for years to get here and save you and send you home. And I wasn't even able to thank them all, given everyone who stayed in their own universe was needed to control their own ritual. I know they weren't working on it every day but-"
She felt Fleur push her away a bit, just enough to be able to look into her eyes, and she heard Fleur sigh in loving desperation.
"You really are a heroine, aren't you? Love, only a heroine could help them the way you did, risking her life, and not see she did something worthy of recognition. But honey, right now, what I need is you in my arms and nothing else. We both need to heal, don't we?"
Hermione's first response was a long, gentle, loving kiss. Words came later, after she lost herself in Fleur's eyes.
"Can we try that in bed? I'm afraid I'll talk little, cry a lot, and become very, very clingy, but I promise things will soon get better?"