Finding You
By warriorofthesea08
Disclaimer: I don't own anything that appears in any of JK's fantastic books…although I wish I did.
Chapter 1: Recognition
Part 1 – Hermione's P.O.V
A certain brunette with chestnut curls walked speedily down the maze of hallways that made up the castle that was Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Talking fervently beside her was a tall, lanky red head with light freckles spread across his face. Next to him was a messy, dark haired boy with emerald green eyes and circular glasses. Both boys seemed in their own world, talking of Quidditch and the World Cup that they had all previously gone to that summer.
The girl, on the other hand, seemed to be in an entirely different world. Two things were running through her mind: the upcoming Triwizard Tournament and the arrival of the two other schools, and a dream that she had experienced the night before.
The dream had seemed more of a memory, though. Like one forgotten, but not yet erased from her memory entirely. In the dream she had been in a large white building. It must've been an art gallery or something of the sort. She had been walking down a long, dark corridor, the frames along the wall seeming to taunt her forward to the light that appeared at the room at the far end. When she finally got there, she found a little blonde girl sitting on a bench in the middle of the room. She had her back to her and her shoulders were slightly slumped. If she didn't know better, she would've thought the girl to be crying, small sniffling and whimpering sounds emitting from her direction.
She felt a pang in her heart then. She wanted to help her, to make her stop crying. She looked up at the painting above the small girl. In it was a woman sitting on a stone bench in the middle of a garden. It seemed to be situated around the ancient times of Greece and the woman some sort of goddess. She was staring off, a lonely expression dominated her light complexion and dark eyes, as if waiting for something.
Suddenly she heard someone speaking. She felt an urge to turn around and see who it was until she realized that the voice she was hearing was her own.
"It's pretty, although the woman looks a little sad…and lonely. I wonder why and what she's sitting there waiting for," she heard herself say. As if in slow motion, she stared on as the small blonde girl in front of her turned her head in her direction, slivery blonde hair glistening as it caught a few rays of sunlight that shone through from the skylight above her. Large, bright blue eyes went wide as they met her own in what seemed like a shock from fright as she emitted a small gasp. Her tiny body seemed to stiffen for a moment, but then relaxed upon seeing the other girl.
As she had suspected, she saw a tiny tear on the blonde girl's left cheek. Even through this, Hermione recognized her childlike beauty. For a moment, there was silence, and it looked as if the blonde girl was about to say something when another voice sounded throughout the hallway.
"Hermione, dear, where'd you run off to?" another feminine voice called out to her. She immediately recognized it as her mother's. She felt herself turn for a second to look down the hallway in the direction from where the voice had come from, but, almost as quickly, turned back to the other girl sadly. She knew she had to leave, but, for some reason, was tempted to stay. Again, she heard the familiar sound of her own voice sound out.
"Uh oh, that's my mum," she heard herself say. "Um…I have to go, okay? I'll see you later." She still felt the need to comfort the other girl in some way before she left. Perhaps by instinct, she ran toward the blonde girl and wrapped her arms around her petite frame, hugging her contently. However, it didn't last as she felt herself pull and turn away from her to run down the hallway in the direction of the mother's voice.
That's when she had woken up this morning, a little confused and bewildered. Had it just been a dream, or a forgotten memory? It had seemed awfully too real to have just been a dream, but then, if indeed it had been a real memory, who had been the little blonde girl? Where had she been? The answers to these questions eluded her. However, she was forced to push them to the back of her mind as the trio entered the Great Hall.
The Hall, it seemed, had been especially decorated for dinner this evening; the reason of course being that tonight two other wizarding schools would be arriving for the upcoming and much anticipated Triwizard Tournament!
Everything seemed to be glowing that night. The large banners hung proudly over their own house table as each houses' coat of arms gleamed with brilliance. Floating candles hovered overhead, illuminating the hall in an almost romantic glow. Above them, the beautiful, clear scene of a starry night replaced the stone ceiling. Even the tables were decorated with ornate table cloths of dark blue and purple silk. Slim, gold candelabras sat sparsely at each table.
Excitement was evident on everyone's faces; even the eternally gloomy Professor Snape let a small grin slip from his lips every now and then. Students bustled to take their appropriate seats at their designated tables, anticipating the rest of the evening.
Just as Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, and the legendary Harry Potter sat down at their seats, a small, but sharp, tinkling sound rang throughout the hall. All heads turned toward the front of the room to find the school's headmaster, Professor Albus Dumbledore, standing before a golden owl platform that stood in front of the professors' table.
Seeing that he had successfully gained everyone's attention, Dumbledore set his goblet and fork down to address the excited atmosphere that lay before him.
"Wonderful evening isn't it, everyone? I wish to take the chance to remind you of the upcoming Triwizard Tournament that is scheduled to begin in a few weeks," he paused a moment to look around at the bright faces that sat before him, stopping for a second to especially send a warm smile at a well known trio who sat at the Gryffindor table. "I hope that I needn't remind you to mind your manners as two competing schools shall be arriving shortly tonight and will be joining us for the rest of the school year."
At this, a wave of whispers and giggles rose through the crowd. Dumbledore rose his right hand and again the hall grew silent.
"I can assume that many of you are hungry, but first, and foremost, we have an obligation as the host school to welcome our guest with the utmost consideration and care. If you will follow me to the front doors of the entrance hall, there we will await our guests until they have arrived," the silver bearded headmaster then motioned to the other professors who quickly stood and headed to their house tables to help guide the large mass of students outside in an orderly fashion. Throughout the hall, students from every house whispered anxiously of the foreign schools that would be shortly arriving.
"Blimey, I wonder which schools'll be comin'," a certain redhead muttered half to himself and half to his two friends beside him.
"I don't know, but whichever they are, I can bet this year'll be particularly exciting, even without Quidditch, won't it be, Ron?" Harry replied excitedly, a smile spreading from ear to ear. He always found himself happy whenever he was at Hogwarts with the two people closest to him.
"Seriously, is Quidditch all you two can think or talk about?" an anxious Hermione laughed. "And of course it's going to be exciting, it's the Triwizard Tournament! New schools and people, not to mention the courses we'll be taking this year. I can't wait for everyone to get here!" Hermione had to suppress herself from yelling in excitement. The anticipation was almost too much for her. All thoughts of her dream had been pushed to the back of her mind at this point.
Professors all tried to settle their students down as most had started to complain of the cold.
Then, suddenly, someone cried out, pointing up at the night sky, "Look!" At this every head in the courtyard turned upward to face the starlit sky. At first glance, nothing seemed out of the ordinary, stars lining the night sky, glimmering silently. However, one star seemed to grow brighter and larger with the passing seconds.
"Something's flying this way!" one person shouted.
"What is it?" another was heard.
Hermione squinted at the flying object that was speedily heading towards them, trying to make out what it was. As it got closer, she realized it was a carriage being pulled by what seemed to be large flying horses. A small gasp escaped her lips as they flew closer to their landing spot. The students quickly cleared the area as the horses flew down to make a surprisingly soft landing in the center of the courtyard.
For a second everything seemed silent. Suddenly, however, the door to the carriage swung open, revealing a very tall, large, dark haired woman stepping out onto the ground. She had to bow her head to clear the top of the doorway, and when she stood her full height, proved to be taller than the carriage itself.
For a moment, Hermione puzzled as to how the woman could have been able to fit inside in the first place. However, she remembered how a small space could be magically enhanced to become much larger as in the case of the Weasley's tent during the Quidditch World Cup that summer.
Dumbledore moved through the crowd toward the woman, bowing and taking her hand, kissing it, and motioning her to the door.
"Welcome and good evening my dear Madame Maxime! I, as well as my staff and students, welcome you and your students to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry!" he greeted her eagerly, having to look up to her grand stature.
The woman made a small bow to him then motioned a hand toward the carriage.
"My 'orses need to be properly 'andled and taken care of," she stated plainly to Dumbledore.
"As I suspected, and you needn't worry, Madame; our gamekeeper, Hagrid, is most capable of the job," he replied, motioning for Hagrid to step forth.
While Madame Maxime and Professor Dumbledore exchanged conversation, students clad in blue and silver robes descended from the carriage in a straight line. Stopping behind Madame Maxime, they awaited orders. The tall woman bowed once again to Dumbledore and waved her students to follow her inside.
A wave of talk could be heard through the crowd. Hermione moved through the other students, curious to know what all the fuss was about. However, the only thing she got to see was a glimpse of silvery blonde hair gleam before disappearing through the doors. Naturally, she felt an urge to follow, but too many figures were in her way. For some reason, the blonde hair struck her as familiar, but she couldn't place where she had seen it before or to whom it had belonged to.
Just then, another object was seen, but appearing from the lake below. At first it seemed like a small boat on the water; however, a mast started to surface as well and, afterward, the rest of a pirate-like ship.
Professor Dumbledore motioned to the other professors, "I will greet them myself and send them inside. Take the students with you all, and be sure that they are all seated by the time I have returned."
With that, Hogwarts students were led inside the Great Hall once again. Immediately, Hermione turned her attention to the students clad in blue and silver who were waiting patiently at the back of the hall, waiting to be seated. As if by instinct, her eyes fell on a particular student that succeeded in catching her eye.
Silvery blonde hair framed a pale complexioned face, and, even from the distance between them, Hermione could recognize a hint of blush in her cheeks. Whether it was natural or just from the cold, she had yet to discover. She was petite, yet not frail looking, and of average height, maybe 5'5" with her arms hanging by her sides in a nonchalant, yet elegant way. However, what caught her attention was her eyes. She may not have been able to see them up close in detail, but she locked with bright blue eyes whose gaze was beautiful and intense.
Again, the feeling of familiarity settled in Hermione as their eyes kept each others' gazes only a second longer as the large woman moved her students to be seated at the Ravenclaw table.
Hermione searched her mind as to where on earth she had seen those eyes before. They looked so familiar, and yet, the answer to her questions still managed to elude her.
Part 2 – Fleur's P.O.V
''Zose eyes…where 'ave I seen 'zem before? I know I 'ave somewhere, my memory is any'zing but faulty,' thought the French beauty, Fleur Delacour. She sauntered over to her seat, only momentarily taking her eyes off the young witch sitting almost directly across the hall, to sit down correctly. When she looked back up toward the bushy haired brunette, she found her staring down at the table in front of her, as if in her own world, a frustrated look plastered on her face.
Fleur traced the slight curved of her cheekbones and jaw line with her eyes. She hoped to lock eyes once again with the obviously younger girl; those warm, brown eyes seemed to intrigue her.
"Don't look now Fleur, but once again you 'ave managed to attract 'ze w'ole 'all's attention," a voice from her left addressed her. She didn't need to look to know it was Mercedes. Out of all the students at Beauxbatons, she was the only one who dared try to flirt with her out in the open. The others knew better, for Fleur's temper was as well known as her beauty, and yet she still tried, even when Fleur made it clear that she detested her company.
Not to say she wasn't attractive though. She had wavy, dark hair that almost seemed black, with tanned skin and cerulean blue eyes. However, if there was one thing Fleur believed in, it was that beauty truly was only skin deep. She blew off Mercedes' comments and advances whenever they came, making it clear she wasn't interested in her. She was interested in women, but was extremely picky when choosing one. Frankly, there were few men she could even stand, and never found herself truly interested in a relationship with one, much to her mother's dismay.
At this, Mercedes took her seat once again, sending a look of resentment toward Fleur who had once again cast her gaze at the brunette witch who sat only a couple of meters in front of her.
Another small, but distinct, tinkling sound was heard from the front of the hall. All heads turned to meet the sight of a wise looking old man.
"Good evening and welcome to all of you who are joining us this year. I am happy to see you all safe and sound. I want to give a special welcome to the schools Beauxbatons Academy, headed by Madame Maxime, and Durmstang, by Igor Karkaroff."
At the mention of her school, Fleur instinctively bowed her head slightly, but was rewarded when she once again caught the gaze of the brunette girl. Icy blue eyes met warm brown ones, and, for a moment, it seemed the two recognized each other, as if from a long ago meeting. Unfortunately, as the old man began speaking once again, the younger witch turned to the front, a slight blush spreading across her cheeks.
"Now then, I hope your hungry, and as I must say, let the feast begin," the old man announced. Almost instantly, plates and platters of food appeared at each table.
Not being that hungry, Fleur only filled her plate about halfway full and once again shot a quick glance towards the brunette witch. However, she found her laughing, apparently at something the red haired boy next to her had said. Something stirred within her, and she found herself wanting to be the one making that girl laugh.
She tried to think of a way she could get close to, or get the chance to, at least, talk to the girl. She looked around her table and found a bowl of bouillabaisse nearly empty. Half surprised that an English school would be serving French cuisine, Fleur nevertheless stood up and headed over to the table where the girl she had been pining over sat.
When she finally reached her destination, she felt the entire hall's eyes burning into her back. She didn't have to look back to know that the whole of the Beauxbatons student population was looking on with curiosity. She also noticed, however, the red haired boy, who had been previously talking with the brunette girl, turn a shade of maroon and stutter inaudible words in her general direction.
Upon seeing this, the young girl next to him scowled. The young French woman expected this type of reaction. All she could do was ask if they still wanted their bowl of bouillabaisse.
"Are you still wanting 'ze bouillabaisse?" she heard herself ask rather meekly, almost struggling to let the words out in the best English she could muster. This was very unlike herself. Usually she was calm, cool, and collected. How did this girl affect her so?
With that the young witch grabbed their bowl and handed it over to the blonde witch, "Sure."
Before walking back to her seat, Fleur gave a warm smile and thank you to the younger witch who smiled back in return.
Fleur didn't notice the near sinister look that was being cast her way and back to the brunette's by Mercedes as she came to sit back down at her place once again. All she could do was picture that girl's face in her mind and how it looked so familiar to her.
Fleur could only stare on in amazement as those eyes haunted her mind. They had met, but where? And when? Yet, one question presented itself; if they had indeed met before, did the brunette girl remember her as well?
As dinner ended and students were shown back to their quarters, Fleur couldn't help but catch one last glimpse of the other girl before making her way back to the carriage and off to bed. Neither witch was aware of the impending danger that was beginning to take shape.