The Apple Orchard
Title: The Apple Orchard
Disclaimer: If you recognize it, it belongs to JKR.
Pairing: Gabrielle/Hermione friendship
Rating: PG for passing reference to character deaths
Word Count: 3550
Summary: Hermione escapes to France after the war, but it seems she’s not the only one who could use some healing. Or a friend.
Notes: Written for unperfectwolf at witchwinter. Just realized I never reposted. *facepalm* Also, many thanks to those on my flist who made many lovely and helpful suggestions. ♥
I overheard Fleur telling Maman one day, when I was nine or so, that it was unhealthy and unnatural, how much I talked about Harry Potter. Maman, bless her, said I would grow out of it. She was right, of course, she always was. Maman is gone now. They all are, except Grandpere. Well, to be honest, Fleur is only in England, married to her Bill, but she might as well be at the North Pole for all I see of her. I think she likes playing the beautiful, mysterious foreigner. That’s probably why she still has that horrid accent, even after so many years in England. She takes after our Grandmama Breussil, the Veela one. Whereas I have almost no accent when I speak English, am perfectly happy blending into the background, and take after Grandpere Delacour. Not the one who married the Veela. (Or “married,” there was always a hint of scandal there, not that Maman would ever discuss it.)
It’s amazing how far away England seems. The War never really came to the Loire Valley, or at least not to Grandpere’s vineyard, where we live. And “we” now includes Hermione Granger, war hero, friend to the aforementioned Harry Potter, and so on. I’m not sure why she’s here, exactly. Well, I know why, the War ended and that Weasley boy broke her heart so my sister suggested she come here to heal. I don’t know what she’s supposed to be healing from, though. Physically she seems fine, but she’s spent the past two weeks sitting on the veranda plowing through big dusty books from Grandpere's library when she's not staring into space or wandering aimlessly through the apple orchards. I never moped so much after Erik, but Grandpere says there is a world of difference between 14 and 20, so I should just leave her be.
~ ~ ~
Yesterday, when Hermione was leaving for another of her rambles through the apple orchard (What does she do there, anyway?), I offered to walk with her. It was nice, actually. She told me about growing up Muggle. I can’t imagine not knowing about magic before starting at Beauxbatons. (Although, if that was the case, I would have gotten quite the shock when I woke up in the middle of that Hogwarts lake!) In return, I showed her the best climbing tree in the orchard. You can see all over the farm from up there. Hermione said no thank you, she could appreciate the blossoms just fine with two feet on the ground, which is silly as there are no blossoms in July, just baby apples, which my tree doesn’t have anyway. I asked if maybe she was afraid of heights. She said she absolutely was not, but I don’t believe her. Grandpere said he used to spend half his time chasing me out of his orchard when I visited each summer. Who doesn’t like to climb trees? But now I only climb this one, because it doesn’t really grow fruit anymore, so I’m not bothering anything. And besides, Grandpere only kept this “useless tree” because it’s my favorite and I cried when he wanted to cut it down. So it seems wasteful not to climb it as much as possible.
~ ~ ~
I don’t like rainy days. I suppose they’re not so bad when it’s a light rain and you don’t really notice, but it’s been pouring for three days now. It’s good for the farm, although I feel bad for the animals. Hermione says that some people think taking long walks in the rain is romantic, and I told her that those people must be crazy and that I will never do such a thing because boys are foolish, especially Erik, so I’ll never fall in love. Hermione laughed, for the first time since she came, and gave me a hug. I’m not used to people hugging me, and Hermione said it showed because I wiggled too much. It was nice to hear her laughing, though. She has a nice laugh. I told her, but I don’t think she believed me. Then she commented on how well I speak English, and that annoyed me. Why can’t people just accept a compliment? Why do they feel a need to give a compliment in return? So I asked Hermione about it, and she told me that some people-apparently meaning her but not me-are self-conscious or have low self-esteem or something, and that’s how they deal with praise. To be honest, which I try to be in my diary, I didn’t entirely understand. In any case, Hermione said I reminded her of her because I have “an inquisitive mind” and to remember that I could always ask her anything.
~ ~ ~
The rain stopped a few days ago, and now all the leaves glisten so our farm is even more beautiful than usual. As soon as it stopped I went outside and visited the goats and Claude, the goats’ guard dog, and the pigs and chickens. (But not Annabelle the cow, who has taken a completely irrational dislike to me and knocks me down whenever I try to milk her.) I gathered the eggs from the henhouse. I love the softness of hen feathers and the warmth of the fresh eggs. After I brought the eggs to the dairy, I wandered through the vineyard, past the honeybee hives, and over to the orchard, but Hermione wasn’t there. Maybe it was too wet for her. So instead I visited Claude and the goats again, and this time I went right into their pasture. I suppose Suzette felt neglected, which is understandable because she’s my best friend, although don’t tell Nathalie at Beauxbatons or she’ll be mad. But Nathalie is only my best friend from September to July. During the summer I belong to Suzette. Anyway, like I said, I guess she missed me because she was so happy to see me that she knocked me backwards into a mud puddle. It is a little depressing that a French Alpine can knock me over, although they are big goats. For a woman of 14, I am very tiny. Fleur towers over me. I hope my growth spurt comes soon, because I am tired of being the smallest in my class. It makes people think they should treat me like a child, which is of course a mistake. Hermione says I have a “sharp tongue,” which I think means that anyone who treats me like a child is quickly made to realize the mistake. And that is true.
After running around outside all morning I was ravenous--my size is misleading. I actually eat a lot, which Fleur says is normal for a child as half-wild as me. But Fleur lives in London, which is a dreadful place, and hardly ever spends time here at Grandpere’s farm, so clearly her opinion is not to be trusted. Grandpere saw me from the veranda and asked what Madame Maxine and all those fancy Beauxbatons ladies would think if they saw me all covered in mud, and I told him the mud smelled better than those fancy ladies in their fancy perfumes, so I didn’t much care. He laughed and performed a warming charm on the pump before helping me get clean, and then we all feasted on bread and cheese and fruit.
~ ~ ~
Today I showed Hermione the entire farm. I thought she might be getting tired of the apple orchard, but she said it was a good place to think. We went there after she’d met Suzette and declared her the nicest goat she’d ever met, but when I asked, Hermione admitted Suzette was also the first goat she’d met, so it wasn’t the compliment it first seemed. Hermione didn't like the chickens, though, and I told her I understood, and explained how I gather the eggs because the chickens frighten the house elves. She said that was very kind of me and she was glad to hear that we took such good care of our elves. In the orchard I climbed to a low branch of my tree and decided it was a much better place to think than on the ground, because the breeze clears your brain. So I told Hermione that, and she said “Nice try” but I don’t know what she meant. Then Hermione told me a terribly exciting story about an enchanted diary and a giant monster. She said it really happened, in her second year at Hogwarts. It was very interesting and I guess I forgot to hold on to my branch because when she told me about seeing the big snake or whatever in a mirror, I fell out of the tree and landed flat on my back. The ground was still soft after all that rain we had last week, so it didn’t hurt, but I was a little surprised and a lot embarrassed. I haven’t fallen out of a tree since I was nine years old! Suddenly I realized that the funny tickling wasn’t the grass but Hermione casting spells on me, so I opened my eyes and she was pale as the Beauxbatons ghosts, and when I sat up and asked her what was wrong, she started sobbing and threw her arms around me. I guess she thought I was injured or dead, which is ridiculous as I was only three feet up, but Grandpere said later it was understandable and that she’d seen horrible things in the War but not to ask her about that, for heaven’s sake, you curious little cabbage, she’ll talk about it when she’s ready. But I didn’t know then why Hermione was so upset, as I was fine, so I promised I’d stay on the ground with her if she’d only finish the story, and then she was crying and laughing and hiccupping and said I was an incredible girl, and she specified that “girl” sometimes means “child”, but she meant it in the sense of a “young woman.” Then we shared some slightly squashed bread and cheese from my pocket, which the house-elf always makes me when I’m going out, and then she finished her story.
Later Hermione performed “the full range of detection charms” on my diary, then said “it is a perfectly normal diary, just as I told you.” But I think one can’t be too careful. That’s why I didn’t let her open it, although she said she wouldn’t have, anyway.
~ ~ ~
Maman and Papa died four years ago today. Grandpere spent the day locked in his room, as usual, but I sat in the orchard in the sunshine and cried on Hermione’s shoulder. She already knew the general story, how Maman and Papa had taken a Muggle tour of London when we were touring England after Fleur’s wedding, and how that particular Muggle killing wasn’t just Muggles. But she didn’t know that we were all supposed to take a Wizarding tour, but I wanted to go to the zoo instead and threw a tantrum, so we split up, Grandpere and I at the zoo, and Maman and Papa on the Muggle tour because the only Wizarding one of the day had already left. Then I explained that’s why Grandpere talked to her through me all the time. He taught me and Fleur English when we were little, but after Maman and Papa died he never spoke it again. Papa was his only child, so I guess he blames England for what happened. Hermione said that people grieve in different ways and she wasn’t offended.
Hermione said it must be difficult having a stranger around on such a day, but I said I usually cry on Suzette’s shoulder, which is why she, not Nathalie, is my summer best friend, so having an actual human summer friend is nice, no offense to Suzette. Hermione asked if crying on a person’s shoulder was a prerequisite for friendship. I said no but it helps. She said she’d never had a little sister, which is even better than friends, but I said I love Fleur but she’s more than enough big sister for anyone so a friend was good enough for me.
Hermione says I’m getting much better at hugs. And now that she knows me better, she sees I wiggle all the time, and that makes my hugs unique.
~ ~ ~
Hermione hasn’t taken a walk without me in two weeks. We have a routine now. She likes to study by herself in the morning, so I go do my chores--feeding the animals, gathering eggs, and milking the goats. I also help Grandpere with the honeybees, but that’s not an everyday thing so it’s not really a chore. And I ride Henri when I think he needs some exercise, but that’s just for fun so it’s not a chore either. After my chores I stay inside for a few hours or sit with Grandpere on the veranda and whittle. Hermione and I go on walks after lunch. Sometimes we go to the vineyard, or through the hay fields now they’ve been harvested, but we usually go to our orchard. Even Grandpere calls it that--“Are you girls going to your orchard now?” Sometimes I give her a French lesson, or she tells me stories, or asks about Beauxbatons or life on the farm, but we don’t always need to talk. She said she’ll help with the bees next time, so she can be my assistant and hold the smoker while Grandpere and I change the frames. I make sure we walk by the hives a lot, so the bees get used to her. I don’t want Hermione to get stung.
~ ~ ~
Yesterday was a cheese day. Hermione had asked so many questions about the goats and how it’s done, so she and I helped Francois with the latest batch. It took all day. I had to translate, because Hermione’s French still isn’t very good. I prepared specially the night before, looking up words I would need.
Hermione said I did an excellent job, and it was through her own clumsiness that she got all that whey in her hair.
In the evening, while we ate fresh cheese with jam and honey, Grandpere told Hermione, through me, that she could take as much cheese as she liked when she went back to England. Hermione’s face crumpled a bit, and she looked like she did when she first arrived, and she said thank you for the offer but she wasn’t ready to think about England. I was sad for her but a little happy for me, because there is a small part of me expecting her to leave me, just like Maman and Papa and Fleur and all the rest did. But maybe she’ll stay here forever.
Today Hermione said that she needed to take a walk by herself, just this once. I went and threw rocks into the stream instead.
~ ~ ~
Today we went to town for the Thursday market. Grandpere and I usually go together, but he wasn’t feeling well this morning. I wanted to stay with him and send Francois instead, but Grandpere said not to worry, he was getting old is all. I never thought of Grandpere as old before, and it felt like the world shifted sideways and everything was off-kilter and wrong, only no one noticed it but me. As Hermione and I walked to town, I kept my face turned away so she wouldn’t know that I was crying a little.
At the market I was too busy to be sad, and even laughed a little at the expressions of our customers when Hermione tried speaking French to them. We sold all the eggs and most of the cheese and honey, so it was a successful day. It’s funny, the Muggles in town--and they are all Muggles, even the men who help on the farm--like to say that Grandpere’s honey has magical properties, which is funny because it’s not true. Grandpere has a way with bees, that’s all, just like I have a way with animals. Except Annabelle, of course.
When Hermione and I came home at lunchtime, Grandpere was out in the garden picking sweet corn. He was pleased at how well we had sold, and gave each of us a portion of the profits in return for our hard work. I think I’ll save mine to buy a birthday present for Hermione.
~ ~ ~
Hermione got a letter from England today, delivered by a beautiful white owl. Our owl is plain brown, but to me she’s beautiful as well. I saw Hermione take her letter to the orchard to read, so I waited half an hour before I followed, figuring that she would be done reading and ready for talking by then. I found her sitting under our tree, crying, something about "He's with Luna?" I sat down near her and rubbed her back for a while, then hugged her so she could cry on my shoulder, which is a little bony but still softer than tree bark. I didn’t wiggle at all. When Hermione had cried herself out, she said I was a champion hugger now. I said I had a good teacher, and would she like to go for a walk?
We had gotten as far as the vineyard before the skies opened up. Hermione called it raining cats and dogs, but I thought that was silly. She said did I want to go inside, since I’m the girl who hates walking in the rain? I said I hated walking in the rain with boys, but walking with a friend was another matter entirely. Hermione smiled and clasped my hand in hers, and we walked on.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
I am back at Beauxbatons, now that All Saints holiday has finished. I can hardly believe it’s November and Hermione is still with Grandpere at the farm. Every week, when I got her latest package, I was sure it would be the last. But then the next week would come and there’d be a box of cheese and honey and apple pie that she’d made especially for me. Hermione says her French is lots better now that she doesn’t have me to translate for her anymore, and that both Grandpere and Suzette are well. So is Felicite. That’s the kitten I gave Hermione for her birthday, after she told me how much she missed her Crookshanks, who also died when the Death Eaters burned down her house with her parents inside. She named the kitten after me, because Felicite is my middle name. It means “fortunate,” and Hermione says she is fortunate to have me as a friend, so it is appropriate.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
I am home today for the Christmas holidays. It will be a small gathering this year. Usually Fleur and Bill spend a few days with us, but Fleur will have her first baby in February, so she can’t travel, and Grandpere vowed to never step foot on that island again, so we can’t go there, either. I’m excited about the baby, but England is so far away, it doesn’t feel real. So I’m especially glad that Hermione is still at the farm. She has seen our valley in three seasons--the nice easy pace of summer, autumn when we're busy picking vegetables and apples, and winter when the farm is covered in snow. And there is certainly snow. It has blanketed our valley. Grandpere hitched Henri to the sleigh this morning and took us for a ride. Afterwards Hermione and I reacquainted ourselves with our usual walks, and had a snowball fight in the orchard. My friends at Beauxbatons will never believe this, but I didn’t even start it, Hermione did!
When we were soaked and shivering we went inside for mulled cider and sat by the fire and played with Felicite until dinner.
~ ~ ~
Today was the very best Christmas in my nearly-fifteen years. We awoke to a light snowfall that lasted all day. It was better than fairy lights. We exchanged gifts after breakfast. I gave Grandpere a new pair of gloves, because his old ones look worn out and not warm, and a tiny goat I whittled myself to apologize for not spending as much time with him since last summer and to promise that I’d never forget what he taught me. I could tell he understood. He gave me a pearl necklace and matching earrings. He said I’ve grown up so much lately that I deserve grown-up jewelry, and he knows I’ll take care of my grandmother’s favorites.
I gave Hermione a new scarf I made on Madame Genevieve’s loom. I once saw the corner of a red-and-gold scarf peeking out from under Hermione’s pillow, but I guess it must have a hole or something because she never wears it, always borrowing mine instead. I also told her that Suzette would be having her first kid next year, and that was my other gift to her. She’ll have to wait a few months for that one, though. Hermione gave me a beautiful sweater, knit from the softest green wool imaginable. She said she found Grandmama’s spinning wheel in an old barn and had taught herself to use it. We only have dairy goats now, though, no fibre goats, so she bartered with an old lady in the market for the wool.
Hermione gave Grandpere a hat to match my gloves, and a selection of English honey. Grandpere gave Hermione some of his old books, the ones she was reading on the veranda when she first came here, then said, “My dear, Gabrielle and I have enjoyed your company more than I can say over the past six months. I would be honored if you would consider this your home. You are welcome here for as long as you wish to stay.”
Grandpere asked Hermione to join our family. He asked her in English.
Disclaimer: If you recognize it, it belongs to JKR.
Pairing: Gabrielle/Hermione friendship
Rating: PG for passing reference to character deaths
Word Count: 3550
Summary: Hermione escapes to France after the war, but it seems she’s not the only one who could use some healing. Or a friend.
Notes: Written for unperfectwolf at witchwinter. Just realized I never reposted. *facepalm* Also, many thanks to those on my flist who made many lovely and helpful suggestions. ♥
I overheard Fleur telling Maman one day, when I was nine or so, that it was unhealthy and unnatural, how much I talked about Harry Potter. Maman, bless her, said I would grow out of it. She was right, of course, she always was. Maman is gone now. They all are, except Grandpere. Well, to be honest, Fleur is only in England, married to her Bill, but she might as well be at the North Pole for all I see of her. I think she likes playing the beautiful, mysterious foreigner. That’s probably why she still has that horrid accent, even after so many years in England. She takes after our Grandmama Breussil, the Veela one. Whereas I have almost no accent when I speak English, am perfectly happy blending into the background, and take after Grandpere Delacour. Not the one who married the Veela. (Or “married,” there was always a hint of scandal there, not that Maman would ever discuss it.)
It’s amazing how far away England seems. The War never really came to the Loire Valley, or at least not to Grandpere’s vineyard, where we live. And “we” now includes Hermione Granger, war hero, friend to the aforementioned Harry Potter, and so on. I’m not sure why she’s here, exactly. Well, I know why, the War ended and that Weasley boy broke her heart so my sister suggested she come here to heal. I don’t know what she’s supposed to be healing from, though. Physically she seems fine, but she’s spent the past two weeks sitting on the veranda plowing through big dusty books from Grandpere's library when she's not staring into space or wandering aimlessly through the apple orchards. I never moped so much after Erik, but Grandpere says there is a world of difference between 14 and 20, so I should just leave her be.
~ ~ ~
Yesterday, when Hermione was leaving for another of her rambles through the apple orchard (What does she do there, anyway?), I offered to walk with her. It was nice, actually. She told me about growing up Muggle. I can’t imagine not knowing about magic before starting at Beauxbatons. (Although, if that was the case, I would have gotten quite the shock when I woke up in the middle of that Hogwarts lake!) In return, I showed her the best climbing tree in the orchard. You can see all over the farm from up there. Hermione said no thank you, she could appreciate the blossoms just fine with two feet on the ground, which is silly as there are no blossoms in July, just baby apples, which my tree doesn’t have anyway. I asked if maybe she was afraid of heights. She said she absolutely was not, but I don’t believe her. Grandpere said he used to spend half his time chasing me out of his orchard when I visited each summer. Who doesn’t like to climb trees? But now I only climb this one, because it doesn’t really grow fruit anymore, so I’m not bothering anything. And besides, Grandpere only kept this “useless tree” because it’s my favorite and I cried when he wanted to cut it down. So it seems wasteful not to climb it as much as possible.
~ ~ ~
I don’t like rainy days. I suppose they’re not so bad when it’s a light rain and you don’t really notice, but it’s been pouring for three days now. It’s good for the farm, although I feel bad for the animals. Hermione says that some people think taking long walks in the rain is romantic, and I told her that those people must be crazy and that I will never do such a thing because boys are foolish, especially Erik, so I’ll never fall in love. Hermione laughed, for the first time since she came, and gave me a hug. I’m not used to people hugging me, and Hermione said it showed because I wiggled too much. It was nice to hear her laughing, though. She has a nice laugh. I told her, but I don’t think she believed me. Then she commented on how well I speak English, and that annoyed me. Why can’t people just accept a compliment? Why do they feel a need to give a compliment in return? So I asked Hermione about it, and she told me that some people-apparently meaning her but not me-are self-conscious or have low self-esteem or something, and that’s how they deal with praise. To be honest, which I try to be in my diary, I didn’t entirely understand. In any case, Hermione said I reminded her of her because I have “an inquisitive mind” and to remember that I could always ask her anything.
~ ~ ~
The rain stopped a few days ago, and now all the leaves glisten so our farm is even more beautiful than usual. As soon as it stopped I went outside and visited the goats and Claude, the goats’ guard dog, and the pigs and chickens. (But not Annabelle the cow, who has taken a completely irrational dislike to me and knocks me down whenever I try to milk her.) I gathered the eggs from the henhouse. I love the softness of hen feathers and the warmth of the fresh eggs. After I brought the eggs to the dairy, I wandered through the vineyard, past the honeybee hives, and over to the orchard, but Hermione wasn’t there. Maybe it was too wet for her. So instead I visited Claude and the goats again, and this time I went right into their pasture. I suppose Suzette felt neglected, which is understandable because she’s my best friend, although don’t tell Nathalie at Beauxbatons or she’ll be mad. But Nathalie is only my best friend from September to July. During the summer I belong to Suzette. Anyway, like I said, I guess she missed me because she was so happy to see me that she knocked me backwards into a mud puddle. It is a little depressing that a French Alpine can knock me over, although they are big goats. For a woman of 14, I am very tiny. Fleur towers over me. I hope my growth spurt comes soon, because I am tired of being the smallest in my class. It makes people think they should treat me like a child, which is of course a mistake. Hermione says I have a “sharp tongue,” which I think means that anyone who treats me like a child is quickly made to realize the mistake. And that is true.
After running around outside all morning I was ravenous--my size is misleading. I actually eat a lot, which Fleur says is normal for a child as half-wild as me. But Fleur lives in London, which is a dreadful place, and hardly ever spends time here at Grandpere’s farm, so clearly her opinion is not to be trusted. Grandpere saw me from the veranda and asked what Madame Maxine and all those fancy Beauxbatons ladies would think if they saw me all covered in mud, and I told him the mud smelled better than those fancy ladies in their fancy perfumes, so I didn’t much care. He laughed and performed a warming charm on the pump before helping me get clean, and then we all feasted on bread and cheese and fruit.
~ ~ ~
Today I showed Hermione the entire farm. I thought she might be getting tired of the apple orchard, but she said it was a good place to think. We went there after she’d met Suzette and declared her the nicest goat she’d ever met, but when I asked, Hermione admitted Suzette was also the first goat she’d met, so it wasn’t the compliment it first seemed. Hermione didn't like the chickens, though, and I told her I understood, and explained how I gather the eggs because the chickens frighten the house elves. She said that was very kind of me and she was glad to hear that we took such good care of our elves. In the orchard I climbed to a low branch of my tree and decided it was a much better place to think than on the ground, because the breeze clears your brain. So I told Hermione that, and she said “Nice try” but I don’t know what she meant. Then Hermione told me a terribly exciting story about an enchanted diary and a giant monster. She said it really happened, in her second year at Hogwarts. It was very interesting and I guess I forgot to hold on to my branch because when she told me about seeing the big snake or whatever in a mirror, I fell out of the tree and landed flat on my back. The ground was still soft after all that rain we had last week, so it didn’t hurt, but I was a little surprised and a lot embarrassed. I haven’t fallen out of a tree since I was nine years old! Suddenly I realized that the funny tickling wasn’t the grass but Hermione casting spells on me, so I opened my eyes and she was pale as the Beauxbatons ghosts, and when I sat up and asked her what was wrong, she started sobbing and threw her arms around me. I guess she thought I was injured or dead, which is ridiculous as I was only three feet up, but Grandpere said later it was understandable and that she’d seen horrible things in the War but not to ask her about that, for heaven’s sake, you curious little cabbage, she’ll talk about it when she’s ready. But I didn’t know then why Hermione was so upset, as I was fine, so I promised I’d stay on the ground with her if she’d only finish the story, and then she was crying and laughing and hiccupping and said I was an incredible girl, and she specified that “girl” sometimes means “child”, but she meant it in the sense of a “young woman.” Then we shared some slightly squashed bread and cheese from my pocket, which the house-elf always makes me when I’m going out, and then she finished her story.
Later Hermione performed “the full range of detection charms” on my diary, then said “it is a perfectly normal diary, just as I told you.” But I think one can’t be too careful. That’s why I didn’t let her open it, although she said she wouldn’t have, anyway.
~ ~ ~
Maman and Papa died four years ago today. Grandpere spent the day locked in his room, as usual, but I sat in the orchard in the sunshine and cried on Hermione’s shoulder. She already knew the general story, how Maman and Papa had taken a Muggle tour of London when we were touring England after Fleur’s wedding, and how that particular Muggle killing wasn’t just Muggles. But she didn’t know that we were all supposed to take a Wizarding tour, but I wanted to go to the zoo instead and threw a tantrum, so we split up, Grandpere and I at the zoo, and Maman and Papa on the Muggle tour because the only Wizarding one of the day had already left. Then I explained that’s why Grandpere talked to her through me all the time. He taught me and Fleur English when we were little, but after Maman and Papa died he never spoke it again. Papa was his only child, so I guess he blames England for what happened. Hermione said that people grieve in different ways and she wasn’t offended.
Hermione said it must be difficult having a stranger around on such a day, but I said I usually cry on Suzette’s shoulder, which is why she, not Nathalie, is my summer best friend, so having an actual human summer friend is nice, no offense to Suzette. Hermione asked if crying on a person’s shoulder was a prerequisite for friendship. I said no but it helps. She said she’d never had a little sister, which is even better than friends, but I said I love Fleur but she’s more than enough big sister for anyone so a friend was good enough for me.
Hermione says I’m getting much better at hugs. And now that she knows me better, she sees I wiggle all the time, and that makes my hugs unique.
~ ~ ~
Hermione hasn’t taken a walk without me in two weeks. We have a routine now. She likes to study by herself in the morning, so I go do my chores--feeding the animals, gathering eggs, and milking the goats. I also help Grandpere with the honeybees, but that’s not an everyday thing so it’s not really a chore. And I ride Henri when I think he needs some exercise, but that’s just for fun so it’s not a chore either. After my chores I stay inside for a few hours or sit with Grandpere on the veranda and whittle. Hermione and I go on walks after lunch. Sometimes we go to the vineyard, or through the hay fields now they’ve been harvested, but we usually go to our orchard. Even Grandpere calls it that--“Are you girls going to your orchard now?” Sometimes I give her a French lesson, or she tells me stories, or asks about Beauxbatons or life on the farm, but we don’t always need to talk. She said she’ll help with the bees next time, so she can be my assistant and hold the smoker while Grandpere and I change the frames. I make sure we walk by the hives a lot, so the bees get used to her. I don’t want Hermione to get stung.
~ ~ ~
Yesterday was a cheese day. Hermione had asked so many questions about the goats and how it’s done, so she and I helped Francois with the latest batch. It took all day. I had to translate, because Hermione’s French still isn’t very good. I prepared specially the night before, looking up words I would need.
Hermione said I did an excellent job, and it was through her own clumsiness that she got all that whey in her hair.
In the evening, while we ate fresh cheese with jam and honey, Grandpere told Hermione, through me, that she could take as much cheese as she liked when she went back to England. Hermione’s face crumpled a bit, and she looked like she did when she first arrived, and she said thank you for the offer but she wasn’t ready to think about England. I was sad for her but a little happy for me, because there is a small part of me expecting her to leave me, just like Maman and Papa and Fleur and all the rest did. But maybe she’ll stay here forever.
Today Hermione said that she needed to take a walk by herself, just this once. I went and threw rocks into the stream instead.
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Today we went to town for the Thursday market. Grandpere and I usually go together, but he wasn’t feeling well this morning. I wanted to stay with him and send Francois instead, but Grandpere said not to worry, he was getting old is all. I never thought of Grandpere as old before, and it felt like the world shifted sideways and everything was off-kilter and wrong, only no one noticed it but me. As Hermione and I walked to town, I kept my face turned away so she wouldn’t know that I was crying a little.
At the market I was too busy to be sad, and even laughed a little at the expressions of our customers when Hermione tried speaking French to them. We sold all the eggs and most of the cheese and honey, so it was a successful day. It’s funny, the Muggles in town--and they are all Muggles, even the men who help on the farm--like to say that Grandpere’s honey has magical properties, which is funny because it’s not true. Grandpere has a way with bees, that’s all, just like I have a way with animals. Except Annabelle, of course.
When Hermione and I came home at lunchtime, Grandpere was out in the garden picking sweet corn. He was pleased at how well we had sold, and gave each of us a portion of the profits in return for our hard work. I think I’ll save mine to buy a birthday present for Hermione.
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Hermione got a letter from England today, delivered by a beautiful white owl. Our owl is plain brown, but to me she’s beautiful as well. I saw Hermione take her letter to the orchard to read, so I waited half an hour before I followed, figuring that she would be done reading and ready for talking by then. I found her sitting under our tree, crying, something about "He's with Luna?" I sat down near her and rubbed her back for a while, then hugged her so she could cry on my shoulder, which is a little bony but still softer than tree bark. I didn’t wiggle at all. When Hermione had cried herself out, she said I was a champion hugger now. I said I had a good teacher, and would she like to go for a walk?
We had gotten as far as the vineyard before the skies opened up. Hermione called it raining cats and dogs, but I thought that was silly. She said did I want to go inside, since I’m the girl who hates walking in the rain? I said I hated walking in the rain with boys, but walking with a friend was another matter entirely. Hermione smiled and clasped my hand in hers, and we walked on.
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I am back at Beauxbatons, now that All Saints holiday has finished. I can hardly believe it’s November and Hermione is still with Grandpere at the farm. Every week, when I got her latest package, I was sure it would be the last. But then the next week would come and there’d be a box of cheese and honey and apple pie that she’d made especially for me. Hermione says her French is lots better now that she doesn’t have me to translate for her anymore, and that both Grandpere and Suzette are well. So is Felicite. That’s the kitten I gave Hermione for her birthday, after she told me how much she missed her Crookshanks, who also died when the Death Eaters burned down her house with her parents inside. She named the kitten after me, because Felicite is my middle name. It means “fortunate,” and Hermione says she is fortunate to have me as a friend, so it is appropriate.
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I am home today for the Christmas holidays. It will be a small gathering this year. Usually Fleur and Bill spend a few days with us, but Fleur will have her first baby in February, so she can’t travel, and Grandpere vowed to never step foot on that island again, so we can’t go there, either. I’m excited about the baby, but England is so far away, it doesn’t feel real. So I’m especially glad that Hermione is still at the farm. She has seen our valley in three seasons--the nice easy pace of summer, autumn when we're busy picking vegetables and apples, and winter when the farm is covered in snow. And there is certainly snow. It has blanketed our valley. Grandpere hitched Henri to the sleigh this morning and took us for a ride. Afterwards Hermione and I reacquainted ourselves with our usual walks, and had a snowball fight in the orchard. My friends at Beauxbatons will never believe this, but I didn’t even start it, Hermione did!
When we were soaked and shivering we went inside for mulled cider and sat by the fire and played with Felicite until dinner.
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Today was the very best Christmas in my nearly-fifteen years. We awoke to a light snowfall that lasted all day. It was better than fairy lights. We exchanged gifts after breakfast. I gave Grandpere a new pair of gloves, because his old ones look worn out and not warm, and a tiny goat I whittled myself to apologize for not spending as much time with him since last summer and to promise that I’d never forget what he taught me. I could tell he understood. He gave me a pearl necklace and matching earrings. He said I’ve grown up so much lately that I deserve grown-up jewelry, and he knows I’ll take care of my grandmother’s favorites.
I gave Hermione a new scarf I made on Madame Genevieve’s loom. I once saw the corner of a red-and-gold scarf peeking out from under Hermione’s pillow, but I guess it must have a hole or something because she never wears it, always borrowing mine instead. I also told her that Suzette would be having her first kid next year, and that was my other gift to her. She’ll have to wait a few months for that one, though. Hermione gave me a beautiful sweater, knit from the softest green wool imaginable. She said she found Grandmama’s spinning wheel in an old barn and had taught herself to use it. We only have dairy goats now, though, no fibre goats, so she bartered with an old lady in the market for the wool.
Hermione gave Grandpere a hat to match my gloves, and a selection of English honey. Grandpere gave Hermione some of his old books, the ones she was reading on the veranda when she first came here, then said, “My dear, Gabrielle and I have enjoyed your company more than I can say over the past six months. I would be honored if you would consider this your home. You are welcome here for as long as you wish to stay.”
Grandpere asked Hermione to join our family. He asked her in English.