The ceremony had just commenced when Draco ducked into the Great Hall. Albus Dumbledore had called for silence and all conversation melted into the large hall that was filled beyond capacity. Extra chairs had been conjured for the guest students, who mingled with whomever they had had a chance to get to know since they arrived. The Slytherin table was crowded with a majority of the Durmstrang students, who felt a mutual acceptance towards one another almost instantly. Spotting a spare seat next to Crabbe, Draco made his way over and sat down.
"Any guess on who's going to get it from here?" he muttered to his peer while pretending to listen to Dumbledore ramble about the history and importance of the tournament and the selection process.
Crabbe looked dumb-founded, which was no surprise to Draco, and he shrugged him off as the large cup before them became illuminated by an emerald flame, followed by a charred piece of paper being expelled from the cusp of the goblet, fluttering into the palm of the headmaster.
"The Durmstrang champion… Viktor Krum!"
A wave of deep, masculine whooping roared throughout the hall as Krum, the world-renowned seeker of the Bulgarian National Quidditch team, rose from his chair (which was surrounded by half of the girls of Slytherin and Ravenclaw Houses) and made his way to the front of the hall where he was congratulated by his Headmaster, Igor Karkaroff, and Dumbledore before being escorted to a private chamber for further information.
As the cheers began to fade and conversation picked up, the goblet flashed an icy blue before it expelled a dainty doily-like of paper with scorched edges. The hall fell into silence as they awaited the declaration of the next champion.
"The champion from Beauxbatons… Fleur Delacour!"
A wall of light blue rose from the crowd as the young women around Fleur stood to applaud their school's champion. Fleur, a dainty girl with silver-blonde hair stood modestly and tried to hide the rose in her cheeks as she moved to the front of the Great Hall to accept her role as Champion.
Draco could feel his pulse quicken as he watched the sophisticated French girl stride up to where Dumbledore stood. He could have sworn she looked at him before her name was called. He looked to Crabbe to see if he had noticed anything similar. Much to Draco's displeasure, Crabbe's attention was also focused on Delacour.
"Did you see that, Crabbe? Did you see her looking at me before she was called?" he hissed, trying to spark a feeling of jealousy in his "best friend."
"What? Oh, uh, erm- yes, I saw her looking at… at you," he responded, his gaze falling to the floor in defeat. Surely she would not have been looking at Crabbe.
Standing from his chair, Draco pushed it in before slinking out of the hall. Now on a mission, Draco would not rest until he acquired what he believed to be rightfully his.
The cold stone of the corridors caused Draco to pull his black satin robes tighter around his toned physique – not that the thin material provided much warmth, the gesture was appreciated none the less.
His footsteps reverberated off the walls, and he was almost alarmed at how quiet the castle was with everyone being in the Great Hall for the Champion selection. Even Filch was lurking in the back, gleeful that students were voluntarily entering a contest that would surely end in their defeat!
Rounding a corridor, Draco came to a large mahogany door that was adorned with black iron fastenings. There was a soft light flickering beneath the wood, and muffled voices slipped through the small cracks in the wood. As Draco opened the door ajar, broken English filled his ears.
"Who is this?" called the deep voice of Viktor Krum.
Draco looked at the internationally acclaimed seeker in awe for a moment before composing himself and regaining his confidence and sense of authority.
"Doesn't really matter who I am, really. I just needed to speak with Fleur for a moment, if that's all right?"
He looked past the Bulgarian's shoulder and caught sight of the feminine figure of the French beauty. His mind began to race as he felt his body crave more from her. He had never felt such a strong attraction to someone like he was feeling right now, and he couldn't shake the desire to be closer to her.
Fleur looked hesitant to leave the room with Draco, for she knew very little about Hogwarts or the types of students that resided there. Fearing it to be a ploy to remove her from the competition, she looked over to Krum before stepping out of the mahogany door and into the chilled corridor.
It was dimly lit, which made it difficult for Draco to see her face. He took the opportunity to take a step closer to her, her perfume resonating off of her body – the subtle aroma of roses and possibly some peach? He bit his lip thinking of what he would say. It seemed foolish that he would make such a bold move without any sort of follow up.
"I just want to… to wish you good luck during the tournament," he awkwardly rambled. He looked over his shoulder to see if anyone was coming. No one was. Fleur blushed slightly and took a step back from him, allowing enough space for her to take in his entire frame.
He was tall, and his build was more than fair. She would have guessed he was some sort of athlete, and that he put a great amount of effort into his training. His platinum bleach-blond hair was straight and airy looking, falling effortlessly from his head. She found his jaw line, which was quite defined, to be very attractive, and she darted her eyes away from his face in case he was studying her as well.
His robes were not fastened, allowing his white wife beater and black boot cut jeans to show through the opening in the soft fabric. Bringing a hand to her cheek, she tried to rub the redness from her face.
"Vell, zank you for your vell-veeshes," she replied, just as awkwardly as he had started the conversation. She took another step away from him, as she had not yet ruled out the possibility of him trying to ruin her chances of competing for the cup.
Draco found himself craving the young woman before him. She had to have been at least two years older than him, and she appeared far more mature than a majority of the girls at Hogwarts. His gaze traveled her body quickly, admiring how fragile and delicate her frame appeared. As she stepped away from him, he took another toward her, backing their way down the hallway.
"My name is Draco, by the way," he stated rather flatly. "Draco Malfoy."
The name sounded familiar to Fleur, but she could not place it. Malfoy. Where have I heard that name before?" She looked the boy up and down once more and decided she had no reason to deny him so early in her stay. If she wanted her time at Hogwarts to be interesting, she was going to have to let her guard down to someone at some point.
It wasn't going to be that easy, though, as Fleur was not a loose girl.
"I best be going, Draco. I am sure zat Professor Dumbly-dore and Madame Maxime vill need to speak with ze champions." She nodded her head at the boy and began to turn away and retreat through the large door which held the remaining champions. Before she could turn away from him completely, Draco grabbed Fleur's soft hand and brought it to his lips, kissing it softly before taking another step back, towards his own dormitory.
"Until next time," he offered with a smile.
"Of course, Draco. I shall owl you later," she returned. "Au revoir."
She stepped back into the room, closing the chamber door behind her. Draco was left alone in the dark corridor.
The black ebony grandfather clock stood in the common room like an armed guard, observing the Slytherins as they lounged during their free time. As the hands rested at 1am Draco found himself sprawled out in the black leather loveseat, alone – as usual.
His eyes were closed as he tried to picture Fleur's face before him, wishing she was with him now. Her icy blue eyes and silvery blonde hair seemed so vivid against the black of his eyelids. The sound of soft scratching drew him from his mental picture as he opened his eyes and looked for the source of the disturbance.
Beside the brick fireplace was a window – conjured by magic of course, as the common room was in the dungeons of the school. The window depicted up-to-date weather of the school grounds, and served as a mode of post transport, as the Owlery was quite possibly the furthest point from where they were located. The backdrop of the window was now a deep black with a faint blue hue. Stars surrounded the quiet sky expect for an elegant eagle that was hovering just above the pane. Draco rose slowly from his comfortable sofa and let the bird in.
Attached to the ankle of the eagle was a parchment scroll with a crystal blue scrawl upon it. Untying the letter Draco took a treat from the bin beside the window and handed it to the owl which nodded curtly before taking off into the distance.
Returning to his laying down position, Draco opened the letter to find his name atop the paragraph.
Draco –
You promised you would see me again, and I would like it very much for you to show me around your school. I know that your groundskeeper is keeping our horses somewhere near the forest, and I was wondering if you would like to show me your grounds? I shall be waiting for you in the classroom on the first floor. Meet me at 1:30? Do not disappoint me, Mr. Malfoy.
– F.
Draco reread the letter, almost in disbelief. Part of him doubted that Fleur would actually want to see him again, and the part that believed she did, did not believe it would be later that same evening. The clock before him read 1:15. He had just enough time to get to the first floor and meet Fleur before the time she had suggested. He ran up to his dormitory quickly to grab his bear skin coat, just in case it was chilly that night.
The conversation from earlier played over in Draco's head as he walked up the narrow winding stairs to the entrance hall. Fleur's soft-spoken voice and carefully spoken English made the hair on the back of his neck prickle, and sprouted goose bumps on his forearms. It was then that he noticed he forgot to grab his robes and was still in his white tank top and jeans from when he had met Fleur earlier.
The classroom door was open slightly and Draco lit the tip of his wand and took a deep breath before entering.
"Fleur," he said softly, hoping that she had actually shown up and it was not a nasty plan set up by Filch in retaliation or Draco skipping out on the last half of the ceremony.
"Draco?"
The French girl emerged from the shadows wrapped in a light blue shawl and a white night gown. She looked like she was ready for bed, but it was appropriate enough to be walking the grounds at 1:30 in the morning. Draco's eyes widened and he was glad that the room was dark enough to hide the red in his face.
"You… you wanted me to s-show you around?" he stammered, peering out the door to make sure Filch wasn't going to stroll in with Mrs. Norris.
"Please, Draco. I weesh to know ze area in vich I will be staying," she said with a soft smile.
"Oh, uhm, sure, Fleur, I can show you the lake and the grounds if you want." He walked towards the door again and turned to wait for her to follow him.
Fleur reached out for his hand and smiled as his facial expression changed from seriousness to confusion. She tugged him back into the classroom and pushed the door closed quietly.
"You need to relax, Draco. I am nothing to be afraid of, yes?"
Draco could feel his heartbeat rapidly increase. He had heard some older Slytherins talking about how Fleur was part Veela, which would explain his desires to constantly be closer to her when she was present. He bit his lip, not knowing what to say or do. He wasn't sure of Fleur's intentions, and was not going to ruin them by making an awkward first move.
Fleur still held Draco's hand softly as she stepped closer to him and gently placed it on her waist. Their bodies were now mere inches apart from each other and Draco could feel the French girl's breath on his neck, due to the difference in height.
Bending his head, he used his free hand to tilt Fleur's chin up until their lips met softly. Veela or not, Draco had longed to kiss her from the moment he had seen her in the Great Hall.
Their lips parted briefly for a breath and their eyes met- Draco's full of desire and lust, Fleur's playful and curious.
It was Fleur that leaned in a second time, kissing Draco with a bit more force than the first. She was not going to hold anything back from Draco. She was in a foreign country, the Champion of Beauxbatons, and she was unaware of what her future would be after this tournament – if she even lived to see the end of it. There would be no regrets.
One of her fragile hands snaked its way up Draco's neck and twisted itself in his blonde hair. She pulled ever so gently, just enough to tilt his head backward, and kissed his prominent jawbone once, twice, and a third time. Draco closed his eyes and bit his lip again as she kissed him along his jaw and down his neck. Suddenly, she released his platinum locks and stepped backward slightly, though her gown still brushed against his jeans.
"Now, about zee lake, Draco?"