Disclaimer: Not mine.
A/N: I'm not going to claim that this is canon in the least bit, as it has been a while since I've read this part of GoF and I'm too lazy to check. So I will say it is not canon, but if any parts are, so be it. Written for RiddlesRightHand.
Harry shifted back and forth on his feet. He was nervous to his core, yet it wasn't entirely for the same reason that everyone thought.
Harry and his three fellow Champions were lined up, side to side, the apprehension radiating from one to another in waves: as Harry's discomfort eased he could feel Cedric's tension build, and just as soon as he sensed Cedric's tension ebb, he felt his discomfort rise. It was as if they form a system at equilibrium; one had to account for another, and all four must equal out to a specific ratio of nervousness to confidence. The level of nervousness, of course, staggered above all of confidence available amongst them.
Even though Cedric by his side, Viktor down a bit further, and Fleur all the way to his right could sense his discomfort wane and wax, his face did not betray his thoughts. They all assumed that he was as nervous as they because of the impossibly intimidating task ahead, and not because he had a personal agenda he was forcing himself to take care of as this just might be his last chance.
As the cannon blast broke though the silence in the stadium making the Champions jump, Harry looked from one of his opponents to another. It didn't quite feel like they were his opponents at this point, though. It felt as if, after everything they had each faced, they were merely allies fighting toward to same goal— survival. As the four teenagers entered the enormous maze in front of them, they no longer hungered for victory and fame. All they wanted was to live.
The schools' representatives began to branch off into different corridors of greenery. Resisting the urge to follow the path least shrouded with fog, or the one Cedric had gone down (he hadn't led him wrong yet, Harry reasoned), he followed the girl in blue down the passage farthest to the left.
Harry stayed several meters behind Fleur for an undeterminable length of time. He only dared to approach her when she began to jerk her head from one direction to another and back to the first, waving her wand haphazardly. She had clearly become spooked in the thickening mist; perhaps even terrified by the various rustlings and animal sounds in the distance. He closed the space between them with small, quick steps.
"Fleur," he said softly, trying not to startle the already-tense girl and failing. She jumped a foot in the air and let out a horrified scream. She turned toward him, her wand forgotten at her side, other arm raised over her head in defense. When her frightened mind registered who she was facing she dropped her guard and clutched her chest.
"Mon Dieu! Garçon, pourquoi pensez-vous me faire peur alors?" she shouted, and Harry's only response was his eyebrows being shot toward his hairline.
She scowled at him for a moment, catching her breath and calming her heart. After she released her chest, she gave him a rough translation. "Why do you scare me so, 'Arry?" she scolded, though she sounded more distraught than angry now. He wondered what she had expected to find behind her, gripping her shoulder.
He frowned. "I'm sorry, Fleur. I just would like to talk to you about something," he said, turning to continue on the path Fleur had been rushing down.
"Très bien," she said quickly, slipping back into French. "I could use some company." She shot glances toward both the way she came and the way she was headed. She then fell into step with him, wand raised again.
"It ees scary in here," she said softly after several minutes. Harry wondered if she had made such an understatement on purpose or if she couldn't think of an English word strong enough to express her fear. He nodded his head in agreement and placed an awkward but comforting hand on her back. Giving him a small, appreciative smile, she prompted him. "I theenk we have a long way ahead of us. What ees it that you wanted to speak about?"
Harry cleared his throat softly. "Well," he started, steeling his nerves, "I don't know who is going to be able to make it out of this Task, if the first two were supposed to be easier. I, uh . . . I wanted to tell you that I think you're a beautiful girl, Fleur." Harry flushed, realizing how awkward he sounded.
Fleur tilted her head, not looking to Harry until she spoke. "That ees very sweet of you, 'Arry," she said with a soft smile. He felt warmth grow in his chest, and his confidence grew with it.
"I've only known you for what, eight months? And for almost the entire time we've been rivals, and none of you liked me," he rambled a bit. "But, y'know, since I've gotten to spend a little time with you, I've found that I do like you, quite a bit."
She nodded. "And I like you too, 'Arry," she looked at him, eyes wide with earnest.
Harry puffed out his chest as his Gryffindor courage kicked in and the confidence it momentarily provided spoke for him. "Well, you see Fleur; I don't know if the right wordis like. I think love might be more appropriate."
Unfortunately, seconds later his sureness fled as they turned a corner. He realized that they were still in this creepy maze, and how dangerous the situation was. And that he should not be confessing his love to Fleur. And how mortifyingly stupid he sounded.
She coughed, taken aback by Harry's sudden announcement. "I am sorry 'Arry, but I'm afraid I cannot say right now that I feel the same way," she looked at him with sad eyes and they almost immediately hardened, froze. "We are in the middle of the most important Task. You 'ad better go find your own way through. I cannot 'elp you anymore."
She turned abruptly and ran ahead, wand held in front of her. She turned down an unknown leafy corridor and Harry stood still, staring ahead of him in disbelief.
He scoffed, scowled and scuffed the ground at his feet. "Damn it," he muttered to himself. "Did you really think a girl like that would be interested in you, Potter?"
Harry shook his head clear and continued through the maze, trying to keep his mind off of Fleur. The last thing he needed was to be angry or upset. He would not deny though, had anyone asked, the pleasure he felt when minutes later, her shouts rang out once again, and sparks lit up the sky.