Part 2

Once arriving at the hospital wing, Madam Pomfrey took a look at both of them to surmise their physical health.

“Are you two alright?” Madam Pomfrey asked after accessing that they were not in immediate need of medical attention.

“Oui, Madam Pomfrey, I am well. ‘owever ‘ermione seemed to be not quite right in the ‘ead, she told me that she did not recognize her best friends, that boy who lived and the two red ‘eads,” Fleur explained to the nurse. Which she quickly added, “If I was selfish, I would ‘ave ‘er remain this way, ‘ermione is tres adorable now. But Mon Dieu, I ‘ave to look out for ‘er well being.”

Since entering the hospital wing, Hermione had looked about the room in fascination, all the potions and herbs, she’d have poked around a few of them and maybe even mix some together, to pretend like she was a scientist. Unluckily for her and very fortunately for everyone else, her hand remained tightly held in Fleur’s.

Madam Pomfrey then instructed Hermione to sit down on one of the beds so that she could perform some analysis on her but Hermione did not even pay heed to her. Fleur moved to walk to the bed and Hermione’s feet automatically followed the older girl and they sat down together on the bed. Once they were settled on the bed, Hermione finally faced Fleur again, and she whispered conspiratorially with mischievous sparkles in her eyes, “Fleur, can we go mix a few of those colourful liquids and make things go boom?”

Hermione was then slapped lightly on the back of her head by the nurse and Fleur chuckled softly, her whisper was more like a stage whisper and thus everyone present in the infirmary had heard her. Hermione grumbled unhappily from being swatted and looked to Fleur with sorrowful kitten eyes. Unable to resist, Fleur patted the spot Hermione had been slapped softly and pressed a soft kiss to her temple. Hermione immediately brightened up; not Madam Pomfrey though, she wasn’t pleased with Hermione moving around so much when she’s trying to examine her. Madam Pomfrey let out a loud huff of frustration when Hermione moved to rest her head on Fleur’s soft lap.

After assessing Hermione for a moment longer, Madam Pomfrey asked Hermione a few questions regarding recent events. One such question entailed as to the reason why Fleur was present in the school, to which Hermione answered, “What school?”

Hermione’s answer had surprised Madam Pomfrey and only made Fleur more curious. Madam Pomfrey finally answered with a question of her own, “You do realize that you are a student of Hogwarts and this is a magical school?”

Hermione purred softly to Fleur’s soft caressing of her hair and Madam Pomfrey had to ask the question again, louder this time around. Hermione then looked to the strange teacher and head tilted to one side, confused but beamed, “What are you talking about? This is a castle! And Fleur here is the princess!” This caused Fleur to chuckle at her response, “And what does that make you, ma belle?”

Hermione seemed to think for a moment in concentration before her eyes brightened up as if she had just figured out the most confusing riddle in the world, “I am your bell that you bring everywhere! That’s what you’ve been calling me, right?” This reply caused Fleur to openly laugh out loud and Hermione pouted with crossed arms. Then she turned to rest on her side, facing away from Fleur with a harrumph.

“Oh no, ma belle, I am not laughing at you,” Fleur spoke softly after composing herself, brushing a few strands of Hermione’s hair behind her ear then bend down a little to press a soft kiss to the brunette’s temple. “You are just tres adorable, ma belle and I am delighted. But belle means beautiful.”

Hermione seemed to be thinking for a moment before she rolled back onto her back and grinned brightly at the blonde, “So, I am your… Romeo?!” Another chuckle from Fleur, she didn’t have the heart to tell the brunette that her guess was way off so instead she said, “I would ‘ope our story doesn’t end like Romeo and Juliet, but ma belle, one day maybe.”

Finally, a deep long sigh resounded around them, Madam Pomfrey had been watching their entire exchange and finally spoke up again to advise Fleur to head to class for the day as it seemed that she would need to take longer to diagnose Hermione than she had originally thought. Fleur nodded but as she was coaxing the younger girl to sit up so that she could leave, Hermione had vehemently refused and said that she needed to be close to her princess. With another deep suffering sigh, Madam Pomfrey allowed Fleur to skip the day’s lessons too and continued assessing Hermione’s head.

Madam Pomfrey had left them for some time and Hermione was snuggled against Fleur’s side, sleeping peacefully. When Madam Pomfrey returned, she was accompanied by Dumbledore and McGonagall. Madam Pomfrey had explained the situation to the headmaster and Gryffindor’s head thus both had come with, to check up on the brunette. Madam Pomfrey finally gave her diagnosis when Fleur had managed to awake the slumbering girl.

“She had been struck on the head by a spell gone wrong. I cannot be certain as to what spell had been cast and what went wrong with it, but if I had to make an educated guess, I would say it was the Clumsy-max hex, meant to make a person unable to control their limbs properly thus rendering them extremely clumsy, to repeatedly trip and fall over themselves. The spell does affect the brain in a way. However the caster, whoever that may be, must have messed it up and happened to hit Hermione on the head, causing instead of just making her limbs go wacky, it made her memories go askew. I would say, her memories are scrambled. While she remembers bits and pieces of her life with her muggle parents, she remembers nothing else.”

After the long explanation, McGonagall was beyond pissed that her favourite student had been the target of either intentional or accidental spell, she fumed, “Well, I sure hope we could find the students who are responsible for this, fighting with spells on school grounds is forbidden.”

The headmaster, as calm as ever, “While this is very interesting, what do you say, Poppy, about young Hermione’s cure?”

“Her memories should be able to come back bits and pieces at a time, but that might take up to months, if not years, for her to return to normal. However, there is a way that we could accelerate the process…” Madam Pomfrey continued, uncertain of what she was to say. Dumbledore prompted Madam Pomfrey to continue with a slight nod of his head.

Then the nurse resumed hesitantly, “However, some of the ingredients needed for the potion are rare, expensive, hard to come by, or a combination of all of them. We would need a thousand-years-old white dittany plant, an Antipodean Opaleye Dragon core heart, faerie essence and two dozen alpha veela feathers.”

Taking everything in, Dumbledore thought about the circumstances, “A conundrum, indeed. I will have to try my contacts in obtaining some of these items. Hogwarts does not have the kind of money for these ingredients for a student.”

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It wasn’t as if Hogwarts wouldn’t try their very best to help the young witch but the items were indeed very rare and expensive, and they could not just leave it to chance and hope that the brightest witch of her age just miraculously recover by herself in a month’s time.

White dittany is rare in and of itself, but for a thousand-years-old dittany – only a world-class herbologist family line would be able to sustain the plant for that long. While a thousand-years-old dittany could essentially be found in the wild forests, it was so rare, it might as well be a myth, then to put into consideration a thousand-years-old white dittany plant? – nearly legend.

An Antipodean Opaleye Dragon is a rare creature, hardly ever seen. Even though the dragon might have two hearts, and may be able to survive without its core heart, it would be severely weakened that it would be very easily slaughtered in the wild.

Faerie essence was not exactly rare, it would be easy to find among the fae kind however they do come with a high price of around 8000 galleons per vial.

Last but not least, veela feathers are easy to come by, of course, not entirely cheap but affordable. Whereas, for alpha veela feathers, which technically only came from the Head of veela clans, would be nearly impossible to obtain unless one had befriended the Head of a veela clan. Even then, to negotiate to get their feathers, one had best pray they were very close friends.

Meanwhile, the adults had been talking, Hermione had not even heard a single word of what they had been talking about, she was seated comfortably in between Fleur’s legs with the older girl’s arms wrapped snugly around her. The younger girl was giggling to herself, entertained by the things only she could see, the Wrackspurts buzzing around her, making funny line ups.

Fleur, on the other hand, was listening intently to the adults and unconsciously pulling the younger girl closer to her body protectively. Finally, it was at this point, the protective instinct in the veela flared up and she finally spoke, “If you do not mind, the Delacour clan is very wealthy and as the ‘eiress of our clan, I would be more than ‘appy to provide these items you ‘ave mentioned.”

The three adults in the room then turned to face the veela heiress, the headmaster noticing for the first time the position the two girls were in and with a twinkle in his eyes, “While that is very generous of you, Ms Delacour, are you certain that you would be able to get your hands on each and every single one of these items?”

Fleur narrowed her eyes, pulled Hermione impossibly closer and nodded her head resolutely. Hermione watched as the wrackspurts made their way to Fleur and buzzed around her, she giggled, “Fleur, fireflies are swimming around you.”

Hermione then suddenly gasped out loud, alarming Fleur, “Oh… The fireflies make you glow and look even prettier, Fleur!” She then turned to the adults, “Servants, look at our beautiful princess.” With a dramatic pause, she continued with a huge grin, “And she’s my princess!”

Although confused, Fleur just smiled adoringly at Hermione. McGonagall raised an eyebrow, she had never seen the young witch so happy and carefree in all the time she had known her. While she was glad to see Hermione happy, she also wished for her to be back to normal again, plus happy.

Madam Pomfrey then clapped her hands loudly to gather everyone’s attention, “Well, while that is resolved. What do we do about young Ms Granger? I don’t think she even remembers what magic is.”

Dumbledore smiled knowingly, “I am certain one Harry Potter, Ronald and Ginerva Weasley are on their way looking for Ms Granger at the moment, they should be arriving soon.”

Just as he finished his sentence, the three came bursting into the infirmary, with their faces drawn in different ranges of concern.

“Ah, Harry, Mr and Ms Weasley, right on time,” the headmaster smiled winsomely.

Both the Weasleys’ started talking at the same time in loud voices together with Harry’s soft enquiry, making any words spoken indecipherable. The headmaster waited for the trio to finish speaking before he finally went into explaining Hermione’s current predicament and how at least one other person should always be accompanying Hermione to ensure that she would be attending all of her classes and not get lost around the castle or in her own head.

By the time all had been said and done, lunchtime was almost over and two loud gurgles of stomach resounded in the room, followed by two tomato-faced Weasleys’. Dumbledore allowed a house elf to bring food to the infirmary so that all present could have their lunch as they continue their discussion.

As everyone ate, Madam Pomfrey voiced her concern, “Headmaster, would Ms Granger be in any position to study and retain what’s been taught at all?”

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“At the moment, no. But I trust that going to her lessons now, future recovered Ms Hermione Granger will be grateful to her… scrambled self for having gone to the classes, as the memories from now shall still remain when she recovers,” Dumbledore answered wisely.

Hermione was still happily nestled in between Fleur’s legs on the bed, holding their plate as Fleur fed herself and the younger witch. After everyone had finished their lunch and it was nearly time for the next class, one Hermione was found straddling and sitting on top of Fleur’s lap, facing her. The younger witch’s arms were encircling the older’s neck while the older’s hands were softly resting on top of the younger’s hips. Hermione was whispering softly about whatever was on her mind while Fleur listened endearingly.

As if only noticing the veela for the first time, plus the intimate position the two girls were in, Ron’s face turned fifty shades of red, bordering purple. Everyone else was surprised or amused, maybe even slightly scandalized, to unexpectedly find the two girls in that position. The headmaster softly cleared his throat but it was to no avail, neither girls gave any indication of having heard him.

He tried again, “Ms Delacour, it is time for both of you to return to classes for the noon.” He then nodded to the three other students, two of whom nodded back to the headmaster. Harry and Ginny walked close to the bed and tried to coax Hermione to go to classes with them.

“Come on, Hermione, let’s go to class, it’s one of your favourites now, History of Magic!” Harry said softly, trying his best to inject enthusiasm for the boring class into his voice. Hermione looked at the two who were standing to the left of the bed, ignored them then asked the blonde, “Are we going to class now, Fleur?”

“Oui, ma belle. Shall we go now?” Fleur smiled gently at the girl.

“What are we going to study? Is it waltz? I want to learn to dance with you, Fleur!” Hermione gushed happily.

“Non, mon amour. I will be having Potions now while you will be going to History of Magic class,” Fleur answered.

Hermione looked fearful and gasped, “We’re not going together?” Fleur merely shook her head. “Then, I don’t want to go to class,” Hermione pouted.

Harry and Ginny continued to try and persuade Hermione to go to class with them and Hermione only held onto Fleur tighter and refused to leave. When Hermione felt a hand on her back, trying to get her to move, she koala bear-ed Fleur, with both arms and legs locked around the older blonde and yelled, “I am never leaving my Fleur!”

Dumbledore chuckled, “This is more difficult than I thought it would be. I suppose I should have a chat with headmistress Maxime about some new sleeping arrangements.” Then he just walked out of the infirmary, leaving the rest of them. McGonagall just sighed tiredly, announced that she was needed in 5th year Transfiguration class and left as well.

In the end, Harry and Ginny had almost resorted to force, and just tried their best to pry the brunette off of the blonde, but Hermione was surprisingly strong, and stubborn when needed to be.

Fleur gave the two a look and nodded her head, asking them to stop. “Ma belle.” With a kiss to her forehead, Fleur continued, “Why don’t you follow your friends to class first and I shall see you when it comes time for dinner?”

With much pouting, Hermione asked Fleur to pinky swear it, which Fleur promised before finally, Hermione made one last request with a huge grin, “But you’re carrying me to class.” Fleur merely shook her head in amusement, “Tellement gâtée, mon amour.” However in saying that, Fleur still acquiesced and readjusted her hands to grab a hold of Hermione’s thighs from below and easily lifted the younger girl enough for her to get off the bed. Fleur made her way through the castle, carrying koala-Hermione with Harry and Ron following behind her; Ginny was making her way to her own class.

Imagine the faces on Hermione’s classmates and ghost teacher when Fleur entered the classroom with Hermione intimately held in her arms. Harry and Ron made their way to their seats and showed Fleur where Hermione usually sat. Fleur then gently deposited the brunette onto her chair and Hermione finally let go of her with a pout. Fleur promised again that she would see her during dinner time and pressed her soft lips onto Hermione’s temple before leaving for her own class.

The entire class was abuzz with whispers upon the blonde’s departure.

“This… is going to be long, long, loonnngggg year, in a totally different way,” Harry sighed, worn out.

Note: Tellement gâtée, mon amour – so spoiled, my love.

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