A/N: Just be aware that I've conveniently made Ron get over his jealousy by now. I know it's not supposed to have happened yet, but I just don't have the patience to give him that much attention... As for accents… I've been particularly lazy and you'll probably need to call upon the power of your imagination.

Disclaimer: I wish I owned them, but I don't =(

Chapter 1

Hermione Granger wasn't one to panic. She kept a cool head on her slight shoulders, and did nothing to hide her stubborn, proud demeanour. Until now of course. Then again, in a situation such as this, she doubted that many (if anyone) would be able to maintain rationality.

Another piercing breath of cold air, and Hermione skidded around a sharp corner. No, it was not every day that one was chased by a hulking, furious Russian through an enchanted castle filled with young witches and wizards.

Sprinting around yet another turn, Hermione forgot to appreciate the uniqueness of her situation. He was gaining ground – fast. Breath coming in rugged, short bursts, she clutched her wand tightly, mentally readying herself to use it.

And suddenly he was on her – slamming her against the unforgiving coldness of the castle walls.

"'Vat do you 'vant girlie, 've both know you 'vere following me, so 'vat do you 'vant!"

Hermione's mind stumbled over a list of pre-meditated excuses until, "I don't know what you're talking about!" burst forth. Why didn't she bring Harry?

"You know for damn certain of 'vat I am speaking." He growled from behind a wall of decaying yellow teeth. "So tell me, did that Dumbledore send you to spy on me? To keep 'vatch?"

Hermione gripped her wand to steady her shaking hands, chin jutting out defiantly. "And why would he need to do that Karkaroff." She spat.

He sneered at her, preparing a scathing response, but Hermione cut him off by ripping his sleeve violently up his arm, exposing his dark mark. "Is it because you're a death eater spy? What are you looking for?"

Karkaroff barked a laugh. "So, you know. I 'vould commend you, but it is already recognized by those of importance." He hissed. "As for being a spy," his eyes narrowed suspiciously as he cast a furtive glance around the hall, "Vit the Dark Lord rising – "

"'Vat are you doing 'vit Hermy-own?" Karkaroff jolted violently in surprise. Eyes wide, Hermione took in the figure of Victor Krum gracelessly appearing from around a corner.

"Krum?" She squeaked, before pushing away from Karkaroff and moving quickly to his side. "We were just discussing how well you were going to go in the first task! Oh, I hope you're prepared!" She gazed up at him worriedly.

Krum cast a dark glance at Karkaroff, before his eyes softened at Hermione. "'Vell, I am ready for anything the first task can bring." Another scathing glance at Karkaroff. "'Vill I see you at the library tomorrow Hermy-own?"

There was a pregnant pause.

"Oh, yes. Yes I suppose you will..."

"I 'vill look forward to it." And with a stretched smile that managed to look painful, Krum stalked off, grabbing his headmaster roughly by the arm as he did.

Hermione let out a shaky breath and slid down to the floor. After a few deep breaths, the tears started and before she knew it she was sobbing into knees that were clutched so tightly to her chest.

She was not aware of the pair of bright blue eyes watching her curiously from the shadows.

XXX

"Are you well?"

Hermione gasped in surprise and whipped around to see none other than Fleur Delacour crouching down to peer carefully into her watery eyes.

"Oh... Um... I was just..."

Fleur tilted her head inquisitively.

"I was just... What does it matter to you anyway?" Hermione got to her feet as blood flushed angrily to her cheeks. "Why are you here? Were you spying on me?" Barely recognising the hypocrisy of her own statement, Hermione clenched her fists and stared at Fleur with blazing eyes.

The blonde smiled cautiously before replying, "Non, I am just," she paused in thought, "wandering 'zese cold 'alls. 'Zese staircases... 'zey move all of 'ze time. It is easy to become lost in 'ere." Hermione narrowed her eyes suspiciously at the French girl. She was not accustomed to seeing such a civil, uncritical attitude when Fleur was present.

"Well... well I suppose I could show you around... if you really are lost." She sniffed and wiped tear stained cheeks with the back of her hands. "Where are you going?"

"To 'ze library." Fleur hesitated. "I need a charm to put even 'ze biggest of 'ze creatures into a sleeping trance."

This had to involve the tournament. Hermione paused as she considered her options. On one hand, Fleur was an arrogant, spoiled little French girl with the entire male schooling population drooling over her. Not to mention she was Harry's opponent. On the other hand, this was Hermione Granger, and she had never backed down from volunteering information. And besides, Hermione justified further, she didn't want the French girl dead because she couldn't find an appropriate charm to use.

"I can show you where the library is. If you like I can even show you which book the spell is likely to be in. I saw one just like it once when I..." Hermione's voice was lost in the expanse of the hallways as she made a beeline for the library. Fleur hurried to catch up.

XXX

"'Zo will you tell me 'ze reason you were crying?"

Hermione glanced over her shoulder at Fleur before returning to her examination of the bookshelf. "I don't know what you're talking about." She replied absently. Hopefully Fleur would at last display some form of social tact and take the hint.

"I am speaking of when you were crying in the 'allway earlier." Perhaps not.

Hermione pursed her lips. "It was nothing, just something that happened, I don't want to talk about it. Here, read this," She said without a breath.

Fleur sauntered gracefully to where Hermione was standing. "I do not like evasive answers, but for now I suppose I 'ave no c'oice." She moved to stand behind Hermione and peered at the page over the brunette's shoulder.

Hermione swallowed as she felt the delicate curve of Fleur's breast push against her shoulder blade. "It's sort of like hypnosis." She choked out, "Puts the recipient into a slumber-like state. I'm not entirely sure about the size of the creature you're using it on though... It could be that – "

But Fleur had already taken the book from her hands, and was frowning down at the writing. Hermione watched with interest as Fleur mouthed the words out loud, translating carefully as she read. The brunette almost wished she had taken the time to learn another language as a child. She sighed wistfully.

Fleur's expression lightened quickly; a delicate curve of the lips that wasn't entirely a smile. "'Zis is wonderful! Merci beaucoup, 'zank you very much." This time Fleur wore what was unmistakeably a smile, and Hermione found herself unable to resist smiling back.

"It's no problem really... I hope it helps in the tournament."

Fleur's eyes snapped to Hermione's face. "Careful wiz' 'how you use 'zis information," she warned, "I would not like it to become common knowledge."

But Hermione was lost in the angry, cold penetration of Fleur's gaze. She shivered as goosebumps climbed her arms and reached her neck. "I wouldn't... I'm not like that." She wrapped shaky arms around her waist and wondered when exactly her courage had deserted her. Perhaps Karkaroff had taken it when he left.

Then suddenly it was over, and that curious half-smile graced Fleur's lips once more.

"But of course," she soothed. "I am just being careful. There are 'zose 'oo do not wish me to succeed 'zis year. I do not 'zink you are one of 'zem." She tilted her head at Hermione. "I do not even know your name."

Hermione flushed in embarrassment. "Of course! I didn't even think to – I'm Hermione. We've met before; I never even thought to introduce myself."

Fleur's brow creased thoughtfully. "I remember. You told me to, errm... W'at was it..." Hermione's cheeks burned in shame. "Oui, to 'pull 'ze stick out of my arse and consider 'ze feelings of people around me,' non? I believe you left before I even 'ad the opportunity to reply."

Memories of dragging a purple-faced Ron down the corridor, and away from Fleur, surfaced. Hermione hung her head slowly, hiding the redness of her cheeks. "You didn't have to be so mean to him... He only wanted to talk to you."

Fleur let a shrill, mocking laugh escape her lips. "I 'zink you believe 'zat even less 'zan I do, 'ermione. 'Zere is only one reason boys like 'im wish to speak to me, and 'zat is because of my 'zrall," She brought her lips to Hermione's ear and whispered, "It is 'ze fish-like expression 'zat gives 'zem away."

Hermione laughed unexpectedly and Fleur looked delighted at this achievement. "He did look like a fish didn't he!" A small pause. "Your thrall? You really are a veala?"

"Oui 'ermione, or ra'zer, one quarter veela." Hermione was silent, and Fleur watched as her mind worked to piece together the puzzle that this information explained. She wondered what the girl would do with this newfound knowledge, and was sadly disappointed when Hermione grabbed her bag, muttered an excuse about the time and bed, before stealing quickly out of the library.

The Veela sighed delicately and turned back to the charm book Hermione had discovered.