This story is supposed to be a sort of linear collection of one-shots, so expect major jumps in time or important details revisited out of sequence; it will probably only span for the entire Fourth Year, but I guess we'll see. It is also going to end up as a FleurXHermione story, though it will take a while for any real interaction between the two to occur, so if you're a patient person you may enjoy this.
This is my first venture into the Harry Potter world, and I hope it is a worthy read, enjoy!
"You do know that they're not supposed to get any help with the tasks right, Hermione?"
"Obviously, but do you honestly believe that Karkaroff and Madame Maxime aren't practically spoon feeding their champions in order to improve their chances of winning? Besides, I don't actually want Harry to die competing in this tournament, because then I'd just be stuck with you, Ronald."
"Thanks, Hermione."
Hermione laughed at the stricken expression on Harry's face, shoving him playfully, the Golden egg clasped firmly in her other hand, as the three headed back to Gryffindor Tower after yet another unsuccessful afternoon spent trying to decipher the horrendous shrieks that erupted from within the egg every time it was opened.
The playful laughter died however, as they entered the common room, filled as it was with,
"Why are there Beauxbatons students in our common room?"
There in the middle of the common room, surrounding Professor McGonagall, were five Beauxbatons students, each holding what appeared to be a small overnight bag. The trio's entrance had not gone unnoticed, with the unexpected guests all turning in their direction at Hermione's rather loud observation.
To her credit, she had the grace to look embarrassed, trying to hide behind Harry while simultaneously pushing the egg back into his possession.
"Bloody hell!"
Groaning quietly as more eyes narrowed in on them, more than a few bearing an amused expression, as a single figure saw fit to make their presence known. Much to Hermione's chagrin, among the foreign students stood none other than the Beauxbatons' Champion, Fleur Delacour.
"Ah, Miss Granger, I'm glad I've caught you," The head of Gryffindor House beckoned the stunned girl forward. Gesturing to the group of students surrounding her, she continued, "It would seem as if the Beauxbatons carriage has suffered some serious damage in its landing. What with all the rain, several of the quarters have been flooded. As such, Professor Dumbledore has asked that we temporarily house their displaced students while repairs are completed."
Hermione frowned at the news, somewhat surprised that in this world of magic such a thing had not already been resolved, but more importantly not understanding why Professor McGonagall was telling her all this.
"I see," She replied, not really seeing at all, but starting to have a vague idea as to why she had been singled out none-the-less.
"So, Miss Granger, we will be needing to borrow your bed for the meantime. Professor Dumbledore suggested that we split the students between the dormitories of the four houses, filling any empty beds, and taking a single bed from those dorms that do not have any room for the extra students. As yours was the neatest within your dormitory it has been commandeered. Miss Weasley assured me in your absence that this would not be a problem." Looking over the rims of her square spectacles, it was obvious that she expected no argument to the contrary.
After throwing a glowering look in the direction of the youngest Weasley, one that was studiously ignored, Hermione forced a smile, before asking, "Of course Professor, but if you don't mind me asking, where am I supposed to sleep?"
Keeping her eyes firmly fixed on McGonagall's face as she waited for an answer, she could feel a pair of deep blue eyes staring at her intently. It took everything she had not to glare at the unwanted intruder, fervently hoping that she wouldn't be the one sleeping in her bed. Although, if that did turn out to be the case she hoped that she could get some Itching Powder from Fred and George to make her stay particularly uncomfortable.
"Well, you can either share with one of your dorm mates, have accommodation set up here in the common room, or share with one of our guests."
Ginny looked up at that, calling over to the frozen brunette, "You can share with me Hermione if you'd like."
Hermione's eyes widened in horror, looking over at her friend, "Absolutely not. No. Never. You couldn't pay me enough." The other Gryffindor's looked on in amusement at Hermione's vehement refusal, with even some of the Beauxbatons students trying to hide their smiles at the outburst.
Ginny looked offended at the overenthusiastic response, "Why not?" She shot back indignantly.
Hermione looked at her as if she was mad, "Why not? Why n- because you are possibly the worst person to share a bed with. Ever. You fidget like crazy, steal all the blankets, your feet are always freezing, and you chase people in your sleep!"
"I do not!"
"Yes, you do."
"I think I would notice if I did something like that." Ginny huffed, crossing her arms defensively in front of her, cheeks blazing at being the centre of attention.
Hermione mirrored her stance, eyebrow raised provocatively. "You think so? So, I guess you also think I rather like sleeping on the floor as well?" Ginny looked down shamefacedly at that, having, on multiple occasions, woken to find Hermione sprawled on the floor over the summer. "I didn't think so," She snapped, turning back to Professor McGonagall, flushing deeply as if only just realising that almost every pair of eyes were fixed firmly on her, McGonagall's bemused expression doing little to alleviate her growing embarrassment.
"Do you have a preference for sleeping arrangements then, Miss Granger?" A shallow smile pulling at the corners of the House Head's mouth.
Hermione sighed quietly, rubbing her eyes tiredly. Shooting a furtive glance around the room, studiously avoiding looking at the foreign students, she found no forthcoming offers to share. Looks like it's the Common Room for me then, as she was about to inform her Head of House that it would be best if one of the couches was transfigured into a bed come curfew, a small figure managed to break free from the huddle of blue uniforms.
"'Ermione!" The small blur of blue and blonde crashed into Hermione, forcing her back into Ron who had been loitering behind her with a dumbstruck expression on his face.
Successfully regaining her footing, amidst muffled curses from Ron, Hermione looked down at the small figure clinging to her waist.
"Gabrielle!" The younger Delacour gave her a cheeky grin, gripping her tighter and Hermione returned the fervent embrace. "I take it this means your room was flooded too?" She questioned, setting her back on her feet.
Gabrielle nodded furiously in response, "Oui, I share weez ma sœur aînée, we 'ad to 'ave a bucket under zis big 'ole in ze roof!" Using her hands for emphasis, showing (no doubt an exaggeration) the size of the proposed hole, which would need a bathtub, not a bucket, to catch all the water it would let in.
"Indeed!" Came Hermione's amused response, gently stroking her hair, painfully aware of a very similar set of piercing blue eyes to the ones gazing up at her at that moment focused clearly on the side of her face, and they were not nearly as delighted.
"Oui, so now we 'ave to sleep 'ere!" Turning those big blue eyes onto her surroundings, as if only seeing them for the first time, she was clearly enamoured by the Gryffindor common room.
"A travesty, I'm sure," Came Hermione's measured response, trying not to laugh at Gabrielle's obvious fascination with her surroundings.
"A what?" Confusion written all over the younger girl's face, her grasp of English not nearly as advanced as the older Beauxbatons students.
"Travesty," Hermione repeated, still studiously ignoring the piercing gaze that felt as if it was attempting to melt the side of her face off, "It means… never mind." Smiling fondly down at the bundle of blonde and blue attached to her waist, charmed by her acceptance of such a lacklustre response.
"Bien," She continued, not to be deterred by foreign words, "You can sleep with me!" She announced, looking rather pleased with herself, completely oblivious to the stifled laughter that seemed to be rising in its vocality, alongside the horrified expressions of the Beauxbatons students.
Hermione bit the inside of her cheek at the announcement, and without thinking turned to meet the unreadable gaze of the elder Delacour as if asking permission to share with her little sister. Fleur's expression remained carefully neutral, but Hermione could feel the hidden displeasure as if it were a physical force.
She didn't know how to refuse Gabrielle, getting the feeling that she wasn't really asking for permission, rather, demanding that Hermione share with her and no one else. "I'm not sure…" She started, trying to pretend that the persistent glare being directed at the side of her head had nothing to do with her response. But upon seeing the disappointed look on Gabrielle's face, she found she couldn't refuse, "You don't steal the blankets, do you?"
The smile Gabrielle gave her was nothing short of breathtaking. A delighted giggle erupted from the excited figure as she threw her arms tighter around Hermione, and Hermione felt she had made the right choice, even if she had to try and hide the wince at the increased intensity levied through those piercing blue eyes from across the room.