A/N: Oh yes. When I said I liked Hermione/Fleur, I meant it. ouo Here lies the ficceh to prove it so in the hopes that I can also continue to represent some fair diversity for all the pairings I like. n.n I apologize in advance for some OOC, it's kind of funny for me to go from hilarious pranksters to somber studiers~. Otherwise, I do hope you enjoy, because I did making it. Do review...I really love reviews...really u.u;.

*Moi Belle = My Beauty~.

It is easy to believe that they are gorgeous; in a sense, they really are – smiling and giggling and blowing their kisses carelessly about as they stride down the Great Hall with much vigor and energy.

As far as Hermione is concerned, however, that is about all they have going for them.

"Woah…" Ron is quite easily stricken by the foreign visitors, though is most impressed with a particular girl. "They don't make them like this at Hogwarts…"

"Tch…" Hermione dissents quietly to these words, imperceptibly following her friend's gaze until she meets his central focal point.

In the very front of the striding Beauxbatons is a rather interesting woman – she, like most of her giggling companions, is very gorgeous, but seems to possess more about her than just her looks – her rather soft-looking lips are fitted with a knowing smile, chest-length blonde locks bouncing buoyantly in its ponytail holder and silk uniform clinging steadfast onto her lithe, semi-curved form while the ends glide seamlessly against the ground.

Piercing, icy-blue irises take a curious glance at the table of watchers – there is a sea of many [mostly men, of course] that eye her, but it is only the rather plain-Jane looking girl with near chest-length curly brown locks and cocoa-colored eyes that really has her attention.

The blonde widens her smile slightly in the hopes that the brunette will notice. Hermione does, responding by merely tucking her locks behind her ear and shyly glancing off in some other direction.

'They really don't make them like that at Hogwarts…'

xoxo

"Just admit it, Hermione. You're into her."

Harry's words are incessant babble as they resonate through her ears and drift pleasantly to a place of thoughts she could care less for – right now, her attention is trained on Fleur's figure swaying tauntingly by, lips curved into a smirk as her lithe hips swing left and right with every click of her low-rise sapphire heels.

"'ello, 'Arry…" She quickly utters in a rich, throaty voice before focusing on the brunette, smirk widening. "and 'Ermione…"

The resonating sound of her sway and 'click' disappear into the corridor where myriad bodies engulf the gorgeous figure into its surroundings. Harry nods, folds his arms, and with a teasing purse of his lips he turns back to Hermione.

"So she knows your name now?"

"What?...No! I mean...Harry!" She hits him with one of her textbooks, frowning deeply. While the raven certainly anticipated this kind of reaction, he still didn't necessarily like being slugged by her Arithmancy book – the bloody thing was large and rather painful.

"Ow!"

An amused 'tch' escapes the brunette as she wraps her arms back around her book, smirking in satisfaction. "That felt good."

"I'm sure it did…" Harry winces and rubs at the tender spot. "But rather unnecessary, don't you think?"

"Not at all." Hermione shrugs, using her classic matter-of-fact tone, though it is more teasing than usual. "I just felt it proper. I mean, what in Merlin's name would give you any sort of premonition that I'm into her? You might as well say that I'm just…just…"

"Lesbian?"

"What? No! Completely off the topic, Harry!"

The raven is not seeing the issue of his suggestion – it was a mere question the pondering notion of Hermione's new-found crush, but the brunette does not find that to be so. She turns her head sharply, causing her curly chest-length hair to whip razor-sharp in the air with her mouth agape and eyes smoldering with irritation. How in the name of Merlin could Harry ever, ever think of that?

"What?"

"What do you mean 'what'? How could you think possibly think to suggest that I'd be a…a…"

"Lesbian?"

"Will you stop saying that?"

"What? I'm only saying a word, Hermione. You're getting extremely defensive about it…" he pauses, then smiles broadly. "I hit it right on the spot though, didn't I?"

"Come off it." Hermione scoffs, tossing her hair back over her shoulders and walking forward in a rather unnatural pace. Did Harry even entertain the notion that she could've been bisexual, at least? "That's ridiculous…I'm not…"

They stop in mid-stride, though she hasn't a clue why until Harry's sea-green irises dance with joviality and epiphany screaming forth from his still smiling lips.

"The ball…Hermione, the Yule Ball is coming up! Why don't you go and ask Fleur out?"

She won't lie – that was actually a pretty brilliant ploy that Harry has proposed. Then again, he isn't as thick as Ron…

"No!" Still, it doesn't matter – she is not asking Fleur out if it's the last she does. After all, how can the raven, who hasn't yet had a legitimate inkling of love [save Cho] know if Fleur is sharing mutual feelings? There is simply no way…

"Well, why not?"

"What do you mean why not? She's a girl and I…I'm a girl! Besides, I've only known the bloody woman for three months. What do you expect for me to do, go and snog her?"

"Three months of mutual crushing sounds like enough motivation for you two to test the waters and get to know each other. "

"Hardly."

"You'll do it one way or another, Hermione. I know you will…"

"And what makes you so sure? What if…what if I already asked somebody else out?"

Oh, no. Here they went again – she has been alluding this mysterious date for a few weeks now, and it is rather puzzling to the raven that she hasn't just come out and said it already.

"Doesn't matter. You'll still figure it out…"

"Don't push it, Harry."

Though Hermione's light-hearted smile says otherwise.

xoxo

Well, so much for that wonderful idea.

It's an absolute nightmare – Ron has just attacked her [since Harry went and exposed the truth about Fleur] for using Krum as a ploy to test their supposed 'mutual crush'. In the end, she flees from the Bulgarian seeker, screams at Harry and Ron, then ends up on the staircase alone and a mess, tears spilling forth from her dark eyes in utter defeat.

"Moi belle, why are 'ou crying?"

'Dear God, if you are up there, please don't let that be Fleur. 'Hermione glances up from her cusped hands and lets out a small noise of surprise. 'Nevermind…'

" 'ermione?" The blonde murmurs again, striding over and making several clicks that resonate within the emptied out staircase until she is sitting next to the brunette. "What is 'ze matter?"

"N-nothing." She squeaks, still willing herself not to look up for fear that Fleur will think her ridiculous and worry that in this emotional state, she won't be able to temper her tongue properly.

" 'ou are a bad liar, 'ermione." She smiles slightly, reaching porcelain digits to boldly wipe away a couple of crystalline tears. "I will not tell…I simply wish to 'now what iz 'ze matter."

Hermione wonders vaguely if she should remain silent so Fleur can keep talking to her in that deep, throaty French accent of hers, or if she'll keep stroking at her fair features until all of the tears dry up should she attempt to produce more of them. Her lips, however, part, and she betrays herself by revealing her problems.

"It's a disaster. I…I took Krum with me to the Ball hoping that…I…you…"

Oh, this isn't even supposed to be happening. Why in Merlin's name is Hermione letting herself get tongue-tied over this? "I took Krum with me to the ball hoping you'd get jealous because you're already unnaturally beautiful and I'm not. I thought if I had him, you'd give a second look at me, and not that Davies prat from Ravenclaw…"

There. She said it. Maybe now Fleur would leave her alone now and she would be left to get over this crush without a problem, because there is no chance in Hell that she would feel the same…

"All of 'zat…for me?" The blonde smiles. "I'm flattered, 'ermione, but 'zat wasn't necessary…I 'ave liked 'ou from 'ze start. Ou're already 'ery gorgeous, moi belle."

"What?" The brunette blushes slightly and looks directly into Fleur's icy blue irises. Was she hearing all of this right?

"I thought it 'as…obvious? Perhaps I wasn't, ah…straightforward enough? 'ere, perhaps I should try again…"

"Wait, what do you mean try ag – mnh!"

Hermione's protest falls silent as their lips are pressed together for a chaste peck, fingers unknowingly lacing together lightly in the process.

"'ow is 'zat? Straightforward enough?~"

"I…erm…" She swallows hard, but finds herself smiling more brilliantly than she had even in the heat of dancing with myriad bodies and adrenaline pumping. "Yeah…I like that…a lot…"

"Moi belle, 'ou shouldn't stay out 'ere…'ou should come with me…" Fleur leans closer so that she can tuck away a few fallen strands of brunette and whisper tauntingly into her little belle's ear. "Shall we?"

"Y-yes…" Wordlessly, Hermione lets the stunning blonde take her by the hand, lead her up the stairs, and off to probably break a good fifteen school rules that she could care less for right now.

Tonight was just the night to go ahead with it.