A/N 1

I'm marinating some ideas for a sequel to Shifting towards Eachother and maybe one or two stories for some other pairings. This little idea got me a bit sidetracked. It is the Dec 1st after all.

I hope you enjoy it and the grammar/spelling is not too bad. edit: Thanks for any hints.

A/N 2

italics = French

"What is there to tell?"

The French words were whispered only a few meters away from where Hermione was standing. Too close. Hermione considered her options to retreated deeper into the maze of the book shelves. No chance. The way forward was blocked with the owner of that voice. The book shelf aisle she was standing in was a cul-de-sac. The other aisle to the left led directly to a table with a bunch of sneering Slytherins. She was stuck on the spot.

Hermione sighed. Of course she recognized that voice. It had called out Hermione's name after her only half an hour ago in the corridors of Hogwarts. So embarrassing. The Gryffindor girl had met the the Beauxbaton Triwizard champion alone on her way to lunch. When she had said, she needed to go to the bathroom, Harry and Ron had not waited for her but had gone straight to the Great Hall. Ron had followed his instincts. Both his stomach and his desire to get a glimpse of a certain blond had told him to press forward. Harry had trailed after him. Hermione had just stepped outside the girls lavatory when the French witch had appeared in front of her out of thin air. Hermione had tried to step around her but she had been held back. Suddenly there had been a tingling noise. Both girls had looked up. There it was. A bundle of green twigs with light berries. Hold together with a red ribbon. A bell hanging to the ribbon. There were sparkling lights. The following had been inevitable.

"I kissed Hermione."

Hermione froze. 'Counting your dents in the bed post, aren't you, wonder woman', she thought irritated, wondering why the ice queen knew the name of a random Hogwarts fourth year. Mademoiselle Fleur Delacour never seemed to appreciate the younger students of the host school. Hadn't she called Harry a little boy after the selection of the champions? Hermione heard the French girl sigh. Who was she talking to anyway? Hermione did not dare to peak around the shelves. Fleur was likely boasting about her little conquest in front of a fine selection of her fellow class mates. Hermione was forced to stay and listen if she did not want to reveal herself. The little French she had learned over the summer was enough to allow her to follow the conversation.

"Under a mistletoe. I finally got a chance to introduce myself to her without her being in the company of the two boys or without someone else hovering in the background. Under bloody magic mistletoe! I had to kiss her before I had the chance to talk to her properly."

So what? Hermione was probably one of many on Fleur's list of kissing partners. But Fleur was Hermione's first. That was not the way Hermione had dreamed about her first kiss. The experience was ruined for her by that unfortunate, needless incident. A girl's first kiss should be exiting. With someone she found attractive. With someone she liked. With someone who liked her back. Or so she had always thought. Not that there were many at Hogwarts who noticed the romantic side of a young bookworm build like a stick with candy floss on top. Especially not now that the school was flooded with exotic foreign students. Anyway, Hermione did not have high hopes that her real first kiss would take place any time soon. There was no rush, was there? She just had turned fifteen last September.

"And Hermione hated it. She hates me. She bit me."

Sorry. Hermione had not intended to bite Fleur. She had opened her mouth to protest the same time Fleur had aimed for hers. The moment they met, Hermione's teeth had cut into Fleur's upper lip. It had been an accident. Really.

"This was my first kiss, Gabrielle. My FIRST."

Wait. What? Fleur's first kiss? Impossible. The queen bee of Beauxbaton had never kissed before? Hermione found that hard to believe. The French girl was seventeen. She had the air of being oh so experienced. There must had been so many who applied to do the honors. Almost every boy and some girls from all three schools were swooning over her. Just like Ron. Surely, there must have been someone who was pleasing to the eye of the veela girl.

"I have waited so long for that moment. Worst of all, the girl I adore was forced to kiss me trapped under the magic mistletoe. Against her wishes. She refused to talk to me afterwards. She just stalked away and ignored me, when I called after her. Way to win her heart!"

Fleur wanted to win her heart? Hermione took one heavy tome from the shelf. She got a glimpse of Fleur, who sat in one of the window niches on the broad sill, hugging her knees, her head leaning against the glass. No trace of her normally confident composure. That little girl, who looked a lot like her, stood beside her. Her sister? Fleur gave her a sad smile. Was there a tear?

"But she has given you the cold shoulder since we arrived here. Why do you like her so much?" the girl asked.

Hermione hold her breath. That moment promised to become another first time. The first time someone declared their romantic feelings for her.

"I like her because of the way she protects her friends, especially Harry, so fiercely. Because of the way she tenderly strokes the binding of her favorite books. Because of the way she sometimes hides a Muggle paperback novel behind a spell book when she thinks that no one is watching. Because of the way her hands are never free of ink stains. Because she cares so much about house elves that she founded S.P.E.W. Because of the way she has made that ugly ginger cat her beloved pet."

Crookshanks was not ugly! And everyone needs a break from learning now and then! Wait. That was beside the point. Fleur had registered her cat. And the novels. She said S.-P.-E.-W., not spew. Hermione looked at her hands. They were indeed full of ink stains. Wow. Fleur really did pay attention to her. Not even Ginny, Ron, or Harry had ever noticed the novels. How much time did Fleur spend watching Hermione? When had she ever been close enough to see the ink stained hands? Maybe, just maybe there was a little bit more to Fleur than Hermione had expected. Her curiosity was aroused.

"Gabrielle, I hope you will not grow up so fast. This mess will start soon enough for you, too. The day you develop your thrall. You will attract everyone except the one you really want. You will have to decline everyone's advances as graciously as possible while scarring away the one you like in the process."

It had never occurred to Hermione that veela girl would consider her heritage as a burden. There was so much resignation in Fleur's voice. Hermione sighed. That kiss could have been, should have been great. For both of them. Maybe they could agree, that the kiss under the mistletoe was just the dress rehearsal, not the premiere? According to a theatrical superstition in the Muggle world, the dress rehearsal had to be awful so that the first performance could be a success. That was considered to be a good luck charm for the premiere of a play. Or so she had heard. Hermione made up her mind. She stepped from behind the book shelf and walked over to Fleur. Herminone flinched. Was there still an imprint of her teeth on Fleur's lip? She told herself to stay focused. Gabrielle eyed her suspiciously. Fleur stood up, straitened up. Hermione did not wait until the French girl finished to compose her ice queen mask in front of her.

"I think, we can do better than our performance in the hallway", Hermione said. "Would you like to try again?"

Fleur's composure crumbled. She looked at Hermione in disbelieve.

"What? Now? Here in the library?" the other girl managed to say, a French melody prominent in the pronunciation of the English words.

"No. I think, we should do the right way. Step by step. The next Hogsmeade trip is scheduled for the upcoming weekend. Would you like to go there with me?"

Fleur's face lit up. Hermione liked the sight. For the first time, Fleur really struck her as beautiful. She looked younger, warmer, more attainable. Hermione hoped to see more of Fleur's softer, candid side in the future. Her instinct told her, that is was something worth waiting for.

"Like a date?" Fleur asked.

Hermione nodded and smiled. Fleur nodded back.

"OK. We will meet next Saturday after breakfast in the Great Hall", Hermione said. She turned to leave for her next class.

"Hermione, would you do me the honor of being my partner at the Yule Ball?" Fleur called after her. A few heads turned their way. The occupants of the Slytherin table were dumbstruck. Madam Pince glared at them from behind a shelf.

Hermione turned around again and walked a few steps backwards, still heading in the direction of the exit, bumping into a stunned Victor Krum.

"One step at a time, Fleur. Ask me again after our date", she said, arching an eyebrow, smirking.

Fleur smiled. The day was not so bad after all. She had a date with Hermione. A real date.