(Harry Potter) Worthy of you: Chapter 21 - The Delacours

Chapter 21 - The Delacours

Summary: Hermione’s summer holiday takes a magical turn with an enchanting family.

Okay. So the girl was French. Hermione assumed so, because of her looks and how comfortable she looked around the beach.

It was a good thing her parents convinced Hermione to learn French to a decent level before their last trip to France, which ended up being a tour around Paris a couple of years ago.

She didn't want to look like a fool in case the girl was a tourist too and would have no idea what Hermione was saying so she tried English first.

But now that she heard the accent of the older teen, she knew French was the better approach here, though she felt kind of intimidated by the look the blonde was giving her.

Still Hermione put a small smile on her face and spoke in heavily accented French, "I am sorry to disturb you while you are playing with your sister. My name is Hermione Granger, and I have an odd question to ask if you wouldn't mind."

Hermione hoped she was right in assuming the two were sisters. They had the same shade of blonde hair, the same perfect pale skin, and now that she was close enough to them, the same ocean blue eyes.

While the girl in front of her didn't quite smile back at Hermione, her expression as well as her tone softened as she replied pleasantly, "Bonjour, my name is Fleur, and the little one is my sister Gabrielle. What is it that you wanted to ask?"

Hermione hoped she was right or what she was going to do next would be very close to breaking the law, though she had to admit it wouldn't be the first time she would do so thanks to Harry. "You see, I'm a student at Hogwarts, and I couldn't help but notice the way you were moving the branch in your hand. Do you by any chance have any idea what I'm talking about?"

Fleur's eyes widened for a moment before she let out a small giggle, her blinding smile returned to her face as she spoke, "Oui. I myself am a student at Beauxbatons Academy, I will be a sixth year during the next term. I'm surprised you noticed Ms. Granger, I was trying to be subtle considering it is mainly a muggle area."

Hermione's smile widened, she recognized the name of the French magical academy, which meant she was right. "Please just call me Hermione. I guess maybe I learned to pay more attention to my surroundings since I started hanging around Harry." Hermione replied, trying to hide the odd magic she felt in the air and the reaction it drew from her.

Fleur's smooth face frowned, and she asked, "'Arry? Are you perhaps referring to 'Arry Potter?"

Hermione realized her mistake too late, and all she could do was nod and make the mistake even worse by weakly adding, "I'm his best friend."

Fleur's eyebrows jumped to her hairline, but before she could say anything something tugged at her arm.

They both looked down to see Gabrielle staring between the two of them and asking in French, "Did she say 'Arry Potter? She knows 'Arry Potter?!" The little girl's voice grew more excited with the possibility.

Fleur sighed in mock exasperation before looking down at her little sister with a smile, "Yes Gabby, she is his friend from Hogwarts." The older teen then looked back at Hermione and opened her mouth, "She is a fan so..."

Before Fleur could finish her explanation the miniature version of the angel was bouncing between the two, her blue eyes shining with excitement as she began asking rapidly, "Is he like in the books? Did you join him on his adventures? Is he handsome in real life? Does he have a sword?"

The little girl only stopped when Fleur put a hand on her shoulder and pushed her back to stand still on the ground.

Hermione wasn't sure how to answer the girl. She knew the books she referred to, she read a couple of them, until she met the real Harry and realized all of them were a pile of lies desecrating the temple that is the libraries.

Luckily, before she had to deal with it a new French voice joined the conversation, "And who is the lovely lady you two seem to be captivated by, dears?"

Hermione turned and for the second time that day her heart began to race at the sight in front of her.

In front of her stood another copy of Fleur, this one though did look a little older. Maybe she was in her early 20's, but even that was a little stretched. The woman had the same blonde hair as the two younger French girls, but hers stopped a little above her shoulders.

The woman was wearing a bikini of her own, hers was soft pink color and it sat on her body in the same way Fleur's did on hers.

She was a little taller than Fleur and had a little more curves. Hermione shook her head before she spoke without thinking again, why did she keep doing it today?! "Hello, I'm Hermione Granger, and I guess you are Fleur's and Gabrielle's older sister."

The three blondes chuckled, before the woman spoke with a wide grin, "Why thank you, though I'm afraid I must correct you, my name is Apolline Delacour, I am their mother."

Hermione could feel her jaw drop. How could it be?! She looked far too young to have even one daughter, far less two, and one of them is older than Hermione!

Fleur giggled before turning to the older woman, "Maman, 'Ermione is a student at Hogwarts and is a friend of 'Arry Potter."

Apolline's eyes flashed with understanding and then amusement, "I see why my daughters find you interesting. Unfortunately, this place does not suit a conversation like that." Her eyes then moved to her daughters and she added with a sharp edge to her tone, "We wouldn't want to cause your father any problems at work, now, would we?"

Both girls looked away and mumbled back, "No, Maman."

Before anything else could be said another voice, this one familiar to Hermione joined them, "And what is going on here?"

Hermione turned with a small blush toward her mother and spoke quickly, "Mom, these are Fleur, Gabrielle and their mother Apolline Delacour." She saw the brief look of shock pass in her mom's eyes when she mentioned Apolline was the mother, Hermione could relate, still she pushed on, "Fleur attends the French equivalent of Hogwarts."

Now understanding settled in her mother's brown eyes as she smiled brightly, "What a surprising pleasure to meet you. My name is Emma Granger."

In that moment her dad ran toward them with three cold bottles in his hands while calling out to them, "I brought the drinks!" He froze when he noticed the three additional females. Hermione noticed the worried look that crossed the faces of the Delacour women, but then her father whimpered, "Please don't send me for another three, the vendor is so far away."

Hermione and Emma rolled their eyes at his overreaction. Her dad was always so dramatic, then again maybe he had to be one to be such a big Shakespeare fan.

"Dan. Behave yourself, and don't be so rude to Hermione's new friends." Her mom admonished her dad, and Hermione wanted to protest about the friend comment. She really just exchanged a couple of sentences with the girls.

But when she looked over to the blondes, she saw their eyes shining with pleasant surprise for some odd reason.

Apolline smiled widely before offering with a pleasant tone, "How about the three of you join us in our home for lunch. Our daughters will be able to speak about their studies freely, as well as stories about her friend."

Her dad looked at her mom, waiting for her decision. Emma smiled widely, "What a lovely offer. We would love to join you."

Hermione hadn't known what to expect when Fleur offered, with that elegant toss of her hair and effortless grace, to show them her family's home—but it certainly wasn't this.

The Château de Luneclaire stood nestled against the curve of the hillside, its pale stone walls glowing under the afternoon sun like they'd been polished by starlight. It wasn't towering or cold like the castles in fairy tales—instead, it felt timeless, as though it had always been there, watching the sea and dreaming in the wind. Soft silver tiles crowned the rooftops, catching the sunlight in a shimmer that almost looked enchanted. Tall windows blinked in the light, framed by shutters painted a soft, smoky blue. Delicate ivy climbed along the edges of the walls like nature itself had chosen to decorate, but somehow never overstepped.

Hermione adjusted the strap of her sundress—a pale yellow cotton thing her mum had picked for their beach holiday—and tried not to feel too aware of how casual she must look next to Fleur's flowing cover-up, Gabrielle's delicate sandals, and Apolline Delacour's regal composure, even in something as simple as a wrap and sunhat. Her mum wore a light floral dress and matching sunglasses, cheerful as ever, while her dad brought up the rear, still drying his arms with a beach towel.

They didn't look like guests approaching a magical manor.

They looked like tourists.

But the Delacours didn't seem to notice. Or if they did, they said nothing—just smiled warmly and kept chatting, as though guiding new friends through ancient family grounds was the most natural thing in the world.

The garden leading up to the château made Hermione's breath catch a little. It wasn't sculpted in the harsh, showy way she'd seen in magazines—this was gentler, more lived-in, like magic had helped the plants grow exactly where they wanted to be. Lavender bushes swayed gently along the path, filling the air with a soft, clean fragrance. Low golden roses curled in careful bunches beneath the windows, and there were pale blue wildflowers lining the flagstone walkway that looked like something out of a Beauxbatons fairytale.

Tiny silver-winged insects—not quite butterflies—hovered over the blooms, flitting from flower to flower. She didn't recognize them, but they shimmered faintly as they moved, leaving trails of light that faded like soft sighs.

Her mum whispered, "Oh, it's beautiful," and her dad gave a low, appreciative whistle, clearly as taken with the place as Hermione was.

Hermione, for once, said nothing. She simply walked slowly, eyes wide behind her sunglasses, heart beating a little faster from a mix of heat, wonder, and nerves she couldn't quite shake.

The moment they stepped inside, Hermione felt the shift—the kind of subtle hush that came from powerful enchantments and old magic. But there was no weight to it. No sense of danger. Just warmth.

The living room opened into high, whitewashed ceilings crossed with pale wooden beams. The stone walls were softened by long, sheer drapes and sunlight that poured in like golden syrup through the tall arched windows. A pair of elegant couches faced one another near a marble fireplace, upholstered in deep sea green and soft gray. Small floating orbs of warm light hovered near the ceiling like lazy fireflies, humming faintly with a charm she didn't recognize.

Paintings lined the walls—dreamy landscapes, magical creatures in flight, a family portrait or two—but none of them moved. Everything felt personal. Lived-in. Not staged.

She noticed her mother pause to admire the paintings, while her father made a quiet remark about the craftsmanship of the fireplace. Fleur glided across the room like a dancer, pausing to offer everyone a seat, her smile gracious and sincere.

Hermione stayed standing for a moment longer, taking it all in.

She didn't feel like she belonged here.

But she also didn't feel unwelcome.

It wasn't long before Apolline called them all to the dining hall, where the dining table was set for all of them, with a wide variety of foods already spread across the table as well.

As they all sat down around the table Hermione found herself seated between Fleur and Gabrielle at one side of the table.

Her mom sat right across the table from her, her dad on her left side and Apolline on the right.

Hermione couldn't stop herself from looking over the wide selection of French cuisine set before her, wondering where she should start and if she should eat at all in the present company.

She also wondered how the older woman could prepare so much food in such a short time, a question that was answered when Apolline called out seemingly to an empty spot, "Thank you Janny, the food looks delicious."

With a soft pop a small creature appeared, she had grey skin, long ears and large eyes. She was wearing a dress with flower patterns on it and a wide smile saying cheerfully, "It is my pleasure, Madam." And with a soft pop the creature was gone again.

Hermione opened her mouth to ask about what just happened when someone new entered the dining room with a large smile.