The Confectionary Chronicles || HP/SPN

Lollies and Loki- Ch43

CHAPTER FORTY-THREE:

As the date for the muggleborn orientation tour of Diagon Alley drew closer, Hermione found herself eagerly watching the sky for owls. But it wasn't a Hogwarts owl that first arrived bearing an invitation.

Fleur's owl was a haughty creature, though Hermione had found that was a common enough theme across most avian species. The letter it bore, and surrendered to her with a sharp click of its beak and a haughty flick of its head, was written on creamy stationary with Fleur's usual, impeccable handwriting. The letter contained within it an invitation Hermione hadn't been expecting at all, an invitation to spend a night or two at Fleur's home in France with her family before the new school year began.

Hermione had enjoyed her correspondence with Fleur, but she couldn't help but feel hesitant about actually meeting the French girl in person. 'Hugo' and 'Muriel' were wounds that would never heal, not entirely, not even with Loki softening the impact of her memories, and while she got along well with Fleur in their letter exchanges, she knew she didn't always relate well to other children in person. But she did really like Fleur, and she also really liked how Fleur had embraced all the chaos she'd suggested that the girl wreak on the species-ist bullies at her school. After taking the time to think it over, ultimately Hermione decided that she would take the risk. Because she could read between the lines, and she understand that Fleur, too, had taken a risk in reaching out, as the part-Veela had likewise experienced past hurts with false friendships.

Decision made, Hermione steeled her spine, calmed the fluttering butterflies of excitement in her belly and wrote back to Fleur accepting the initiation, before belatedly informing Aunt Iona and Uncle Arran that she'd been invited to spend two nights in London with a school friend she'd made at Red Roofs (and that her parents were footing the bill). They both agreed to it, pleased that she was making an effort to maintain connections with her school friends. Hermione felt mildly guilty about misleading them, but she preferred the lie to using her god like some sort of taxi-cab. Loki was a god, not some sort of personal chauffeur for her to just dial up when she needed a lift from him!

Fleur sent back a pleased reply with a portkey attached, and, a week later, with her bags packed and Vashti kissed goodbye (her beloved phoenix could flame to her side in seconds if necessary, but considering her relatives thought Vashti was a canary, to keep up the facade they'd decided she ought to stay in Fraserburgh in her disguise), Hermione hugged and kissed her uncle and cousins goodbye before her aunt made the hour drive to Aberdeen Airport where, to their knowledge, she boarded the two-hour flight to London. Instead, she activated the portkey from one of the bathroom stalls, taking off for France with a dizzying whir.

She arrived in a spacious foyer that reminded her of the entrances of the houses of her parents' wealthier friends. The space was brightly lit and open, decorated in shades of pale cream and soft gold, and it seemed as if Fleur's entire family had gathered to greet her as she arrived. There was Fleur, of course, who looked just as Hermione remembered her; bright-blue eyes, long-silvery hair, and an already willowy figure, despite her young age. Next to her stood a miniature version of Hermione's, who must surely be Fleur's younger sister, Gabrielle.

Behind Fleur and Gabrielle were a man and a woman, presumably Fleur's parents; Claude and Apolline Delacour. Claude Delacour was a slightly plump man with a serious-looking face but a very kind smile. Next to him, Apolline Delacour was radiant; her beauty reminded Hermione of Eris, in that it was otherworldly, inhuman even, in its perfection. Her hair draped down her back like liquid silver, softly curling along the ends, her skin near glowed in the light of the foyer, and her eyes were like sapphires, bright and glittering. Her rosy lips were curved into an enchanting smile.