DEFYING GRAVITY

FD/HG

A/N: 1. Thank you to those who reviewed, added this story to their favorite list and alerts.

I know this chapter took a long time to be updated, honestly I haven't written anything for awhile and just wanted to get back to writing.

I might miss out on grammar, punctuation, etc. please let me know and I'd be happy to edit those.

If there are inconsistencies on this chapter from the previous ones, please do not hesitate to to point this out, I might have missed out on those.

Feedback in any form will be greatly appreciated.

After all that heavy editing(still rough in my opinion,) here's chapter 7, and once again...

Read it. Praise it. Flame it. Burn it.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own anything, except for the plot (^_^) because if I did, Fleur and Hermione will end up with a happily ever after.

Seven

"Kiss me."

They were just words aren't they? Two words that would become her undoing now that she dared to speak them out loud. Fleur was looking at her in that way again, if it was the veela in Fleur or Fleur herself, Hermione really didn't care to find out. How could two beings share one body without altering one's soul? Fleur was born this way and like it or not she couldn't help being who she is. It was as if Hermione's eyes were being opened for the first time. It wasn't Fleur who was looking at her that way, it was Hermione who was looking at Fleur in that way.

Hermione took a sharp intake of breath as she felt herself being pushed and her back lightly crashing on the bookshelf behind her. She instinctively wrapped her hands around Fleur's neck to keep herself from falling, tangling her fingers in Fleur's silvery blonde tresses in the process. Hermione could feel Fleur's arms around her waist, steadying her, holding her, as if by doing so, anchoring the younger witch to her, to keep Hermione safe, to keep Hermione here.

It feels as if electricity was coursing through the younger witch's body from just that single touch. If Hermione was still teetering from Fleur's confession a few moments earlier, this was nothing compared to that. Hermione's body was vibrating from this proximity. Anticipation, excitement or probably from lack of judgment, because somehow, even though Hermione asked for this, it feels so wrong. No, not wrong, but the feeling of something bound to go wrong hung over her, every instinct in Hermione was telling her to make this stop, for her to turn around and walk away. Didn't Fleur already opened that option for them, but somehow, somehow, Hermione keeps finding herself rooted to the spot, unable to move, unable to go on.

"Push me away," Fleur breathed out. "Please don't ask this of me." A tinge of soft pleading was noticeable in the older woman's eyes yet there was something more in them, if Hermione would put a word in it, the word want came to her mind easily.

Yes, Fleur wanted her, that much was obvious after the older witch's speech. If Hermione was unsure of what kind of want it was, if Hermione were to be honest with herself, if Hermione would accept this and possibly give in to her own inner self, that subconscious part of herself, the one who thinks about the what if's with her and Fleur, then that would mean those words she carelessly said to the older witch three nights ago, were not said out of frustration or to even provoke the quarter veela, she actually meant them.

How did this happen? How come I did not notice this?

Because if you fall, you die, another voice in whatever part of her brain answered for her.

Oh, right. It's because of that bit. Kiss me? Hermione's ever rational brain, her voice of reason spoke up out of the blue. Kiss me?! Have you gone mental? Do you even know what you're doing? This is insane! Hermione, for all she knew, she had probably gone mental, but what's to stop her? There was only that annoying buzz inside her head that was telling her to run. Fleur just bloody gave you a reason to walk away, even you know it for yourself. If you do this, you will die and you know this is true. Take that road and go. Even if that is the case, she already knew her answer.

She tilted her head back and removed one of her hands from Fleur's neck. She brushed a strand of that silvery blonde hair away from Fleur's face so that she can see the older woman better. Merlin, her eyes had gone so black, Hermione thought. You can still walk away from this. I want to, please just shut it. I can't think. I can't breathe. I can't- Her thoughts died away, as she absently stroke the older witch's jawline with the tip of a finger. Her chocolate brown orbs never leaving Fleur's infinitely dark ones. I'm not running away.

"Hermione," Fleur whispered, dark eyes pleading yet again.

The younger witch shivered with the way her name was uttered. Fleur placed her hand over Hermione's the one caressing her cheek and intertwined their fingers, she felt the older witch drew her even more as Fleur lowered her head as if meeting Hermione's lips. The younger witch closed her eyes, waiting for that moment, she felt Fleur's warm breath on her cheek and instead of a kiss, Hermione felt Fleur's soft lips brushed lightly on the side her neck, then trailing slowly up her hairline just behind her ear. Hermione shivered involuntarily when she felt those lips moved and nibbled her earlobe tenderly. She felt a gentle hot breath on her ear when she realized that Fleur was whispering something in her ear.

"Please push me away," Fleur murmured, her voice dropping into a low husky note.

"No," Hermione found herself saying. It's odd how her heartbeat seems to be beating in its own faint and steady rhythm. It should be erratic, knowing for a fact that any moment now, darkness was waiting to lay claim on her. I will not faint, I will not faint, I will not faint, she thought desperately as if saying that over and over again will help. She could feel her knees shaking and almost buckled over as if somebody had cast a jelly legs hex on her.

"Don't ask this of me. Please tell me to stop."

"If I can't ask this of you, then ask it of me."

"I want to, it's all I ever wanted."

"But..?" Hermione prompted.

"I would be nothing if I lose you."

"Do you love me?"

Fleur breathed out a deep sigh. "More than anything else. I am yours completely."

Hermione stared unseeingly at something behind Fleur's shoulder. She drew her head back and with her other hand, cupped Fleur's cheek, searching Fleur's eyes. If Hermione was searching for the truth in those words, she found that there is no need to, for the truth and commitment was laid before her. She could feel it humming, the darkness before them, the sound of life being breathed into it. Damn that darkness that threatens every time she and Fleur are finally coming into terms with who they are to one another. She could feel her body shaking, as if something was coming alive from deep within her, waiting for the kiss that was yet to come.

She heard Fleur inhale deeply, taking in her scent. She felt Fleur's hand moved from her waist to the small of her back, pressing them even more closer. I will not faint, she said again to herself. Hermione was drowning, she knew it, but how far will she fall? As far as she can go, even if it meant crashing and not waking up at all. How far was she willing to take this deeper? As deep as it can allow her, even if there is no more means to come back from this. She had her answer. It may seem illogical, irrational and mad, there was only one thing Hermione was certain of, this was the right thing to do. If she fails, well that is something that she cannot think about right now.

But what if? Would it really matter if this was the right thing? Is giving her life all worth it to save someone from a life of misery she could not understand to begin with? What about after? So many questions still after finding the answers to some that she had been asking before this. Will this kiss, even as simple as it sounds, but as complex as it is to do be their saving grace? Hermione does not know and even if she does, will she still want it? Will she still want Fleur?

Fleur leaned forward and place a gentle kiss on Hermione's forehead, she felt feathery kisses trailing down to her eyelids, forcing Hermione to close her eyes. She could feel Fleur's deep breaths as if committing all of Hermione to memory, her scent, her exposed skin, leaving Hermione cold as soon as Fleur's breath left that spot. Mint, Fleur's breath smells like mint, Hermione inhaled deeply, savoring this scent, as this sensations assaulted her nostrils. Hermione's eyes flew open when she felt Fleur stop.

Blue, stormy blue eyes with all traces of black gone, met Hermione's inquisitive brown eyes. Hermione felt naked under that gaze. It was captivating seeing Fleur's emotions brewing in those eyes, one that Hermione thought she will never see. I don't really care anymore, all I want now is to stare into those gorgeous blue eyes without seeing any pain in them. Blue? How had it gone from black to blue so fast? It was seeing Fleur becoming one within herself and the realization that the younger witch completed the older witch in more ways than she could have asked for made her reel.

"You are afraid."

"No, I'm not." Hermione whispered hoping that her voice does not betray the weakness that she was slowly succumbing into. "I want you." As soon as she said it, she could feel her body going slack, she wasn't entirely aware when it had happened but she dimly registered that Fleur was supporting her entire body weight.

"You want me?" Fleur asked.

Even before Hermione could formulate the word yes, she could sense the answer resonating in every fiber of her being, resounding in every part of her body. Every minuscule movement was screaming that answer and if Fleur doesn't have her veela senses or if she wasn't keenly attuned to the emotions of the one she chose, she wouldn't know of it. Hermione could tell that the answer was reflected in her chocolate brown eyes, with the way Fleur's eyes was boring deep into hers. I could get lost in this, Hermione mused.

Fleur's goddess like features remained passive except for the storm brewing deep within her blue eyes. Her porcelain white skin, glowing softly in the dim lighting of the Great Library. The very air about her crackling with the intensity of her magic that was spurned by the emotions she was afraid to release. Involuntarily, Hermione lowered the hand cupping Fleur's cheek and place it over the older witch's chest. Hermione could feel the same steady beating of Fleur's heart that was happening in hers underneath the soft fabric of Fleur's robes. Hermione's mouth opened in surprise and it was at this moment that Hermione felt Fleur's lips covered her own.

Soft lips crashing against hers. The need and hunger in them took her by surprise. Her sensations were being blown away all at the same time. It was stormy and calm, hot and cold, dark and light, shaky yet steady and grounded. She clenched her hand and grabbed the older witch's robe, yanking Fleur towards her, needing and wanting her more than she could possibly imagine. She loved Fleur not because she needed her, its because she needed Fleur that's why she loved the older witch. Hermione knew deep in her heart that its also the same for the older witch.

Hermione opened her mouth as a soft moan escaped her lips. Teeth gently brushing against each other, tongues questioning yet never daring. It was like their bodies had molded into one just like that dance, Hermione dimly remembered dancing with Fleur. She felt the older woman gripped her tighter and pulled her in, just like what she was doing earlier. Damn the older witch for being perceptive of Hermione's turbulent emotions. Even if she can't find the words to express herself, somehow the Fleur just knew without her saying it out loud.

Hermione gave a soft gasp, her eyes wide open but unseeing, her nose being overwhelmed by Fleur's scent, her lips moving against Fleur's yet perfectly in tune with the older witch's, the rest of her body frozen with this one simple act not knowing what to do. But something else took over, the one that was sleeping from somewhere deep inside reawakened once again. It was this side of Hermione's that made her dance like a veela, and it was this that responded to Fleur's kiss. Hermione's eyes closed immediately, her hearing muting everything else that surrounds them, the faint rustling of a book's page as it was being turned, the scratching of quill against parchment, the sound of static that always seems present in the Great Library from the hum of magic that were embedded in the books, scrolls and tablets, giving way to the sound of their hearts beating rhythmically as one. Hermione could taste raspberry from Fleur's silky smooth lips taking in every little thing as much as she could.

Hermione began sucking Fleur's lower lip gently and it was this motion that Fleur deepened the kiss, going in deeper, asking for permission from Hermione to lower her guard, to let Fleur in. It was a feeling of connection, one that was meant to be, for how could something so wrong feels so right all along? It was then that Hermione abandoned all her restrictions, just letting it go.

It was that surrender, that acceptance at that moment that made the world stopped turning. Hermione was drowning, and even if she comes up for air, it would never be enough if Fleur was not there. Everything as she knew it would never be the same again. Damn that darkness, damn that weakness that was quickly falling in, if this is what is meant to be finally complete, she would gladly accept it, after all death is not something to be afraid of. It is a promise of a new beginning.

In my dream I have fallen. In my dream, I disappeared. You always said you would choose me, but what about my choice? I choose you too. I won't leave you, I don't care if this what Fate chose for us. I won't accept it, damn the Fates for doing this.

With that thought, she held Fleur as tight and as close as she could. With that last breath she took, Hermione was once again falling into the brink of darkness.

xxxXXXxxx

Cold. Dark. Silent.

Hermione was aware that her eyes are wide open, she can feel it without touching that body part of hers. There was nothing, just the darkness that seemed to stretch before her for who knows how long. Where am I? Her over worked brain seemed to have restarted itself. So many unanswered questions, so many words that seemed like explanations, yet at the same time not a coherent thought was forming. How did I get here? For all the higher brain functions that she seemed to have retained, the only thing clear right now was the deep blue that had worked its way into her memory.

Blue? She wondered. How can there be blue when it was infinitely black with where she is right now. Is this death? If this is what death would feel like, I wouldn't wish this even towards my worst enemy. (To that she can actually name a few.)

Laughter.

An unexpected sound. It wasn't the sound of amusement, it was more like taunting. Like it was forcing her to a reality she wasn't ready to face or accept. But you have to. There was that annoying voice again. The voice from her dreams. That infuriating sound that was her company every night she falls asleep. This is different, isn't it. Are you scared now, Hermione?

No, she answered.

I warned you, didn't I? If you fall, you die. You might not wake up from this.

I don't believe you.

You will, whether you like it or not. Do you even know where you are?

I would if you would tell me. And I would also very much appreciate it if you would tell me who you are. Really, that disembodied voice act is getting old now.

Cold. Dark. Silence.

Hello? Are you still there? No answer. For all her justifications, a strong part of her could not believe that she truly died. It's that stupid really, there is only one type of kiss that will kill, and even that kiss will not render a person dead, more like a soulless existence akin to being dead but not truly.

A kiss? It was a kiss, she remembered a kiss. What was it she said earlier? No one's going to disappear and no one is dying, because that was just plain stupid.

Do you feel stupid now? The voice was back again.

No, and I know, no I am certain that I'm not dead.

Really? So where are you?

You will tell me and you will tell me how to get out of here.

I will tell you where you are, eventually. And you will know who I am, and that is if we would meet. I expect that won't be long now. It's time to wake up.

xxxXXXxxx

There was that rush of wind again, the feeling of pressure inside your ears when one is on a high altitude. Yet, it was something different. It's not supposed to hurt like this, came her thoughts out of nowhere. Even unintentional thinking hurts. It's like the Cruciatus curse all over again, yet different at the same time. This was something more or less to which Hermione could not put her hands on. This was definitely more. Even opening her eyes and staring at this blue something is exhausting.

Blue? Blue like Fleur's eyes. Blue against black or is it black against blue? Hermione wasn't certain anymore. What was she certain of anyway? How is it possible that everything she knew now could be questioned. She closed her eyes once more, hoping for a brief respite from whatever turmoil her over worked and over exhausted brain could take.

"Hermione?" A voice asked.

That soft contralto tones seemed to grate inside her head. It should irritate her for all the world she was feeling right now, on the contrary it was like an anchor, something to hold on to, something to keep her from drowning. She felt her hair being brushed back from her face. A gentle caress on her skin. She slowly forced her eyes open again, only to be met once more by that intense blue.

"That's interesting," she whispered.

A soft cry echoed in the room and instead of breathing she found herself drowning in a mass if silvery blonde hair. Instinctively she found herself wrapping her arms around the French part-veela witch, burying herself deeper into the french witch's embrace, drowning herself in Fleur's scent. How could this be so wrong when it feels right all along?

"Fleur?" She asked tentatively.

The older witch's response was to hold her tighter. "I'm alright."

"Non," was the whispered reply.

"I'm still breathing."

"Oui, you are."

"Okay," Hermione said, closing her eyes once more. Merlin, she felt so exhausted. Maybe, just maybe they could stay here like this forever. Not a soul to bother them, in a place and a time in which they can call their own, and the only thing that could ever exist will just be her and Fleur. Maybe they could, with all that veela thrall in the air no one in their sane mind would walk into this place.

That's right, they were still in the Great Library. Hermione tempted fate and look where it got her? In the dusty floor, somewhere in the aisles of the Obscure Texts section wrapped in Fleur's arms and rethinking her thoughts. If she were to die, in all honesty she wouldn't mind dying like this. That's selfish isn't it? Are you really going to leave Fleur like this? What about your parents, Harry, Ron, Ginny and the rest of the Weasley's? Even that worm Draco?

Hermione took a deep breath. As much as she would like to stay like this, she knew whatever time she was fortunate to have will be better spent on something else.

"Fleur?" She felt Fleur's lips brushed her neck when the blonde witch tilted her head to look at Hermione. Rhe younger witch reached out and brushed Fleur's hair away from her face. Staring into those deep blue eyes, she gave a soft smile. "Please help me stand."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure."

Hermione was sure. She was definitely sure. She was absolutely certain, because she finally found her answer. She reached out and took Fleur's hand in her own.