So, I'm thinking weekly updates. Just because, it takes me about three days to write a chapter, three days to procrastinate, and one day to pull my shit together and update ^_^ Also, I'm really hoping no one picks up on the little technicalities in this story (Like Gabrielles age and other such things) But it's my story and I can tweak things for my own personal amusement. So. Ha. Also, I don't really like this chapter, because not much happens, but next chapter is when shit gets real. Yeeeaaah!


"I will see you later 'Ermione!" Fleur said waving. Hermione smiled and began making her way to her next class, but then paused. Fleur was headed in the wrong direction. The Transfiguration classroom was on the fifth floor, but Fleur was heading downstairs to the second floor. Hermione shrugged and headed to her next class. Fleur had been here for two weeks already, she should have her bearings by now.

However, by dinner that night, Fleur was proving the exact opposite. She sat across from Hermione at the Gryffindor table, idly drawing patterns in her gravy.

"So..." Hermione said loudly, causing Fleur to jump back into reality.

"Do you have any homework tonight?" Fleurs eyes flashed up momentarily, before going back to her untouched meal.

"No...I 'ave done it all already," She said, and continued with the gravy art. Hermione was about to inquire further, but a large amount of laughter echoing behind her cut the brunette off.

A group of Beauxbaton girls had strolled in, looking like they just walked off a photo shoot, as per usual. Hermione turned back to Fleur to find the French girl hastily packing up her stuff, looking like she had just seen a ghost.

"Hey, where are you going? You haven't even eaten yet!" Hermione exclaimed.

"Nowhere," she answered quickly. Hermione raised an eyebrow.

"Uhm, what I mean is, I just realized I do 'ave 'omework. Zere is an essay due in Defence Against the Dark Arts,"

"What's your topic?" Hermione asked suspiciously. Fleur froze.

"...Grindylows."

"Odd," Hermione said. "That's something the Third years generally do. We covered it with Professor Lupin last year," Fleur was beginning to look more and more anxious as the conversation went on.

"It is just some review zing Professor Moody 'as us doing, you know, refresh our memories,"

Hermione didn't believe a word of it, but decided to let the blonde off the hook.

"Alright, good luck on that essay!" Hermione said. Fleur shot her a grateful looked, and all but ran towards the exit, but was intercepted by a tall, brunette Beauxaton girl. Hermione watched curiously out of the corner of her eye as the two girls engaged in a heated, yet hushed argument. After a minute, Fleur looked around to see if anyone was watching them, clearly frustrated, then pulled the brunette out of the great hall and into the corridor. Curiosity getting the better of her, Hermione got up and followed the duo. Crouching around the corner, Hermione could just make out what the two French girls were saying.

"I am not going to talk to Jolene. You should be zankful zat I am eve giving you ze time of day," Fleur growled.

Hermione was shocked at the tone in the blonde's voice. She'd seen Fleur get angry (Mostly at Ron continuously trying to hit on her) but had never heard that amount of sheer ice.

"Fleur, you cannot expect to move away and have every'zing zat 'appened at Beauxbatons just disappear. It does not work zat way."

"...I can try.." Fleur muttered.

"All Jolene wants to do is talk. Will you accept zat?"

"Non. Jolene never wants to 'just talk'. Besides, zere is no'zing zat can be done about zat now. What 'appened 'appened. Tell Jolene, zanks, but no zanks." And at the sound of Fleurs receeding footsteps, Hermione booked it the hell out of there.


Fleur collapsed onto her bed and screamed into her maroon sheets. It had been two weeks, just two weeks into her new life and already she was feeling as tired and worn out as she had in France. She knew Hermione had followed her into the hallway, and felt bad that she couldn't come clean with the brunette. It's not like she didn't trust Hermione; she just didn't trust herself around her. Fleur groaned, knowing that she should tell Hermione about Beauxbatons, but really didn't know how to bring it up.

'ey 'Ermione. I just wanted to say zat ze reason i 'ave been acting strangely is zat Beauxbatons is coming back to 'aunt me, and if you knew 'alf of ze zings I 'ad done, you would never speak to me again. Just so you know.

Even saying it in her head made her cringe. She sighed. She would tell Hermione...eventually. For now, she just wanted to enjoy her company before Hermione left her, just like everyone else.


Fleur spent the next couple weeks desperately trying to avoid Jolene as much as possible, at the same time, trying not to let on to Harry, Ron, or Hermione that she had an issue with the Beauxbaton girl. Then again, there also was the issue of the TriWizard tournament. Fleur sat, staring at the Goblet of Fire, books laying unopened on her lap.

"Hey, how did that Grindylow essay go?" Fleur looked to her right to see Hermione sit down beside her.

"Er...fine. It was really easy considering we 'ad already done it," Fleur said with a smile.

Hermione was rather hurt that Fleur has decided not to share what had transpired last night, but didn't want to push either.

"I zink...I zink I would like to enter ze tournament..." Fleur murmured after awhile. Hermione looked shocked, then her face split into a grin.

"Enter then! You're actually old enough, maybe this is what the sorting hat was talking about, with the candle," Fleur flashed back to the sorting hat's words.

And a fiery determination to prove yourself.

"Wow, 'Ermione Granger, encouraging some'zing dangerous. I would have zought zat you would have given me some statistics about injuries in ze tournament," Hermione laughed, and smacked Fleurs arm playfully.

"I wouldn't suggest it if I didn't have faith that you could handle it," Hermione smiled.

"Aw, 'ow sweet," Came a sarcastic voice from behind the duo. Fleur didn't even need to turn around to know who was standing there. She'd know that voice anywhere. She whirled around to see none other than Jolene standing there in her golden haired glory, slight smirk on her lips and hand on her hips.

"You might wanna be careful of zis one, mon cherie," Jolene said, putting her hand on Hermione's shoulder.

"She 'as a 'abit of breaking 'earts," She whispered in Hermione's ear, and made her way to the Goblet, elegantly tossing her own name in.

"Thanks, but I'm obviously a better judge of character than you are, so you can keep your warnings, and give them to someone who cares," Hermione said, and turned around so Jolene was facing her back.

Jolene, clearly not accustomed to being spoken to in such a manner looked taken aback.

"And what could you know? You 'ave known Fleur for a month,"

"And isn't it funny how I can already tell she's a better person than you are?" At this point, Jolene was really starting to look absolutely pissed.

"Listen, I am not a person you want to 'ave as an enemy, Mademoiselle Granger," Jolene growled.

Hermione took a step forward, a pleasant smile still etched on her face.

"Then go away," Jolene stood, unable to think of something to retort to that, and walked back to her posse of Beauxbatons.

"I take it that is the person you've been avoiding since they got here?" Hermione asked. Fleur was once again shocked by Hermione's keen observation.

""ow did you...?"

"No one deliberately takes the wrong hallway to Moody's class. I bet he was a riot when you showed up late," Fleur winced.

"Yeah...zat was not fun,"

"Please tell me you and that bitch never had anything going together," She spat out, glaring holes into the back of Jolene's head. Fleur raised an eyebrow, but said nothing about the brunettes choice of words.

"Non. She was my best friend. And, I zink I just made up my mind," Fleur said, angrily writing her name onto a slip of parchment, and crossed the age barrier Dumbledore had set up around it.

"In we go," Fleur said, and tossed her name into the flames.

"Was your best friend?" Hermione asked.

"We 'ad a...falling out. I was 'oping when I moved 'ere, I would be done wiz 'er. It seems I am mistaken,"

"What was it over?" Fleur never got the chance to reply, for Harry and Ron decided to join them.

"I'm telling you Ron, I know what it means! I'm not stupid,"

Ron snorted.

"Obviously you are, or your French is worse than mine!"

"You don't speak French, Ron!" Harry retorted.

"Blimey Harry, nothing gets by you, does it?"

"You know what, let's just ask Fleur!" The two boys took their seats across from Fleur and Hermione.

"Fleur, okay, A Beauxbatons girl just walked past us, giggled and said...what was it Harry?"

"Sa tete ressemble une chien," Harry said grimly.

"That's good right?"

Fleur turned to Hermione, who obviously put together what it meant.

"Should we tell him what it means or let him live the fantasy?" Hermione whispered.

The duo looked back to where Ron was, staring happily into space.

"Maybe, we should let him live ze fantasy," Fleur replied.

"Although, he kinda does look like a dog doesn't he? With the shape of his head and all," Hermione snickered.

"It means zat she zinks you are...cute, like a..puppy," Fleur said.

"Ha! I told you!" Ron yelled triumphantly, and went to go pester the Beauxbaton girls.

"What? Hey that's not right!" Harry exclaimed. Fleur winked at him.

"Oui, je sais. I know," Fleur said, grabbing her stuff, and leading Hermione out of the grand hall, leaving Harry looking even more flabbergasted than usual.

"Well, that was an eventful morning. You're absolutely terrible, you know that?" Hermione said, laughing.

"...just a little bit..." Fleur replied. "Zanks for ze entertaining morning, but I do 'ave to get to class." Fleur leaned forwards and placed a kiss on both of Hermione's cheeks in a typical French fashion.

"B-bye," Hermione said, as Fleur made her way to her next class. Hermione turned sharply on her heel, and made her way to potions, and silently fumed.

Great stutter, Miss Granger she thought. Made you sound perfectly articulate.

Shaking her head, Hermione made her way to the potions room, and took her usual seat in the back, shortly joined by Harry and Ron.

Absentmindedly, Hermione began doodling on her piece of parchment, not really listening to Professor Snape ramble on about the potion they will be brewing.

"So, Hermione, where do we start?" Ron asked. Hermione looked up, shocked that everyone was already starting.

"Sorry, Ron, I wasn't paying attention. What are we making?" Ron pressed the back of his hand against Hermione's forehead, as if checking for a fever.

"Are you feeling alright? You always pay attention. Its so out of character I'm thinking of calling Madame Pomfrey." Hermione swatted his hand away.

"I'm fine. What are we supposed to be working on?"

"The Dreamless Sleep Potion, which you would have known had you been paying attention, Miss Granger," Came Snape's voice from behind her.

"Five points from Gryffindor," Hermione rolled her eyes and got to work on the potion. Pay attention, she gets docked for being an insufferable know-it-all, don't pay attention, she still gets docked. Something wasn't right with this teacher.

"Harry, will you grab these ingredients for me?" Hermione said, giving Harry a list. Harry saluted, and went to go do what he was told. Hermione mentally patted herself on the back for already reading her potions textbook and knowing how to brew the potion without Snape's previous babble.

Eventually, the brew turned to the deep purple it was supposed to be.

"It seems that you got lucky, Miss Granger," Snape said after inspecting her cauldron.

"That or you cheated of Mr. Malfoy. Another five points from Gryffindor,"

There was absolutely no winning with this man.