"When you build bridges you can keep crossing them." - Rick Pitino, Lead to Success
The Summer of 1993, on Some Random Hill in Switzerland:
"Yodel ley-he-whooooooooo~!"
Fleur Delacour titled her head to the side as she listened to the loud- yodelling maybe? It sounded like a dying whale was screaming in pain- shrieks echoing around the mountainside, blaring repeatedly in Fleur's brain until the familiar call of 'Yodel ley-he-whoooooo' was emblazed firmly into the French girl's mind.
"Mon dieu," The blonde muttered, straining her ear as she hurriedly got to her feet. "'ow can zomething be so 'orrible?" The girl- no, woman- left her spot on the mountain and began walking down into the valley of the hills, where the noisy screaming was coming from.
Meanwhile, while Fleur was calmly gliding through the weeds of cow bitten grass, Hermione Granger stopped her… screaming, and had turned to her friend standing next to her.
"Well," she demanded, putting her hands on her waist. "How was it?"
Harry Potter laughed awkwardly as he tried to ignore the brunettes peering stare. "It was… interesting." The thirteen year old finally decided, eyeing Hermione in case she took his words badly. Much to his pleasant and secret surprise, the young girl beamed happily as she turned around to admire the landscape surrounding the two English born teens. "Thank you, I've been trying to get it to not sounding like a banshee, so I decided to come out here where no one can hear me. I must be improving then!"
Harry almost felt bad for a moment, before realizing he had said the complete truth. The girl's yodelling was very interesting.
The two friends sat down on the grassy ground as they took in the scenery, Hermione and Harry relaxing after Hermione grilled the boy on every aspect of her singing. (Was yodelling even a type of singing? Harry wondered peacefully. He would have to ask Hermione.)
They were in a valley, surrounded by hills all around. There were no sounds, except for the quiet brush of grass as the children shifted in their spots. With no signs of humans, or wizards, or any sort of magical and Muggle mishaps that always seemed to follow the two thirds of the Golden Trio, Harry and Hermione found themselves relaxing in the early summer Switz sun.
'Nothing can disrupt this,' Hermione thought.
It seems she had thought to soon.
The crunch of boots brought the boy and girl out of their calm thoughts.
"Was it you zhat made that 'orrible noise?" a light French accent came from Hermione's left- making the Gryffindors jump in surprise and stare at the speaker.
A tall willowy girl- who couldn't have been any older than sixteen or seventeen- peered down at the two with narrowed blue eyes. Hermione found her breath caught at the sight of the woman, who was staring at her interestedly through beautiful, beautiful ice-blue eyes.
"What noise?" Hermione's voice said questioningly.
The other woman sniffed delicately. "Ze one with zhe awful screams. Une little girl was signing it, I zhink." The blonde turned to the black haired boy with a raised eyebrow. "Unless it was you who vas screaming?"
Harry shook his head, and Hermione blushed in embarrassment. "That was me," she admitted. "I'm sorry, I thought we were alone so I tried to practice yodelling but I guess I didn't do well and I'm so sor-"
The gorgeous woman held up a pale hand, effectively making Hermione stop her rant of apologies. "Non, it is fine." She paused for a second. "Would you like me to zeach you?"
The brown eyed girl blinked in confusion. "Me?" she pointed at herself. The woman nearly rolled her eyes, but stared at Hermione. "Unless 'e wants to try yodelling," Harry shook his head and mouthed the word 'no' over and over silently. "Zhen oui, you."
Hermione blushed but held out her hand, nodding her head. "I would like that." She admitted. "I'm Hermione Granger, and you are?"
Fleur smiled as she shook the outstretched hand. "Fleur Delacour. Z'ts nice to meet you, 'ermione."
Hermione grinned as she took away her hand, still blushing slightly from being so near the pretty girl. "Likewise, Fleur. I have a question though-" Harry snorted quietly. She definitely had more than one question. "Are you from France?"
"Oui. I am vacationing here vith my family. I am guessing zhat you two are family also?" Fleur asked politely.
Harry and Hermione shook their heads. "No, I'm just spending my holidays with Hermione. I'm Harry Potter, by the way." The green eyed boy introduced himself somewhat wearily.
Fleur didn't even blink. "It's nice to meet you, 'arry."
Harry nearly sighed in relief. The girl didn't know who he was- or if she did, she was thankfully not pulling out the 'are you really?' card.
"Fleur, if you do not mind me asking, how did you learn how to yodel? Did you have a tutor or is it more of a by yourself kind of singing-"
The older blonde woman grinned. She could grow to like this girl, even with her constant questions.
Finally someone who could understand the beauty of yodelling and it's fine art!
The Fall of 1994, in the Gryffindor Fourth Year Girls' Room:
"Come on, Hermione! We're going to be late to meet the boys of Durmstrang!" Lavender Brown squealed as she expertly applied another layer of lipstick. "Aren't you excited to go see them?"
The fourteen year old witch shook her head at her roommate's question. "Not really, Lavender."
The blonde looked at the other girl in shock. "But how? Their so good looking and I heard that Viktor Krum goes to school there and-"
Hermione sighed. "Lavender, we're going to be late."
The other girl squeaked as she looked at the clock. "Oh my god, you're right! See you later Hermione!" With that, the girly-girl sped out of the room- with about twenty minutes before all the Hogwarts students were required to be out front to greet with the other schools. The brunette sighed in exasperation. That worked each time, and the (rather ditzy, she was sad to admit) blonde fell for it every time. Hermione's house-mates sure were not known for their intelligence.
Unlike her…
Hermione found herself blushing. Even months and years after their initial meeting, the Gryffindor could not get the French witch out of her head.
It was almost magical. Fleur was kind, smart, beautiful (Even when she forced Harry and Hermione into doing over a hundred jumping jacks as a 'warm up' for yodelling. Hermione thought that 'warm ups' required vocal exercises. Fleur would later tell her that she just wanted to see the younger witch's reaction, much to the brunette's secret surprise), amazing… She could debate with the thirteen-then, now fourteen-year old girl better than any Professor she had ever questioned…
Hermione found herself falling in love with Fleur.
Now, exactly what was the problem?
Hermione didn't know if Fleur felt the same way about her.
It was a small (or perhaps slightly bigger) thing that had made Hermione both love to be in the French girl's presence, or make her want to hide as far away from the other girl.
Fleur was intelligent, gorgeous, and she had no interest in Hermione the same way that Hermione felt for her.
The brunette sighed like a love-struck school girl (which, coincidentally, she was) and tried to run a brush through her curly locks of brown hair. I didn't work very well. Throwing her hands up in the air, Hermione grabbed her bag (for she would like to bring her books with her in case she had a chance to read them, thank you very much)
Hermione didn't remember much of the whole big shah-bang that the students and teachers did when they hastily tried to shove the children into perfect, symmetrical rows. Her attention, like the many other students, was drawn to the large flying carriage speeding towards the castle.
The landing was loud and bumpy. The Muggleborn couldn't help but wince in sympathy for all the poor boys and girls trapped inside. It was a bad landing, with so much turbulence that not even the larger aeroplanes would escape unscathed.
The door to the blue carriage blew open and a large- Hermione almost couldn't believe her eyes. She had to be the same height as Hagrid!- woman stepped daintily out of the transportation, accepting the hand held out by Professor Dumbledore.
"Ah, Dumbly-dore," The half-giant smiled down at the old man. "'ow wonderful it iz to see you again."
Dumbledore lifted the woman's large hand up to his face where he pressed a light kiss on it. "Madame Maxine, as beautiful as always."
Madame Maxine blushed prettily. "Oh Dumbly-dore. Let me zhow you my stuzents." She gestured to the door, which had settled closed after her exit, and it opened up magically to reveal a long line of girls- and some boys- walking out of the carriage as if it was the most common occurrence.
Hermione felt her breath catch. She was there. What was she doing there?
Harry seemed to have noticed also, because he caught her brown eyes and pointing discreetly at the girl.
Fleur had arrived.
Fleur seemed to be searching in the crowd for something- or someone. Hermione bleakly remembered that during one of her lessons that she told Fleur she was a Gryffindor at Hogwarts.
The blonde couldn't possibly have remembered that, could she?
But finally those icy-blue eyes caught with her own brown, and Hermione could understand the emotions and words running through the other girl's.
Love. Adoration. Happiness.
Hermione gave a wide smile as she mouthed the words, 'I'll see you soon'.
Fleur nodded and mouthed back, 'I can't wait'.
The butterflies in her stomach roared during their silent exchange, and Hermione felt herself extremely impatient for the opening ceremony where she could see Fleur again.
And from the way that Fleur was standing, she couldn't wait to see the younger girl too.
For the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry Competition by UnicornsAndRainbows20089 using the prompts:
Words: Hurry
Action: A character must yodel
Quote: When you build bridges you can keep crossing them. - Rick Pitino, Lead to Success
Era: Trio
Year: 1993
Pairing: Fleur/Hermione
Major Character: Harry
Genre: Fluff
Sentence: What are you doing here?
Event: Doing jumping jacks
For The Romance Competition by faraways:
Fleur/Hermione (EASY LEVEL)
Under no circumstances do I own any right, part, or character in the series Harry Potter. I am just one author out of millions of Harry Potter fans.