Chapter 3
/Sorry this chapter has taken so long in comparison to the others, I was on a residential and then had some unfortunate news, but without further ado, here is the third chapter of A Series of Miscommunications
A/N: Not me property aye/
Hermione scowled heavily at her reflection. Blast that godforsaken girl, she thought, as she took note of the large bags and slightly glazed look in her eyes. Her skin was pale and her bushy mane was particularly bad today, and her bad mood didn't help with her all-around rough aura that she seemed to be emitting.
She sighed and stepped into the shower, letting the hot water cascade down her body as she thought upon her dreams that night. The French woman confused her to no end, and she didn't like feeling out of the loop, so it was no surprise that she felt a budding dislike for the girl. It had to be jealousy, she thought, what other reason did she have to think about her? Hermione didn't even know her name for god's sake, and it already seemed that she was captivated. It irritated her beyond reason and she had to admit she was more than a little curious about her reaction to the witch and just her in general, as much as it upset her to do so. She had a weird urge to get to know the witch, to test her character and knowledge; the other side of her, however, wanted to assume all that she could based on what she had already observed and be done with the headache that the mysterious French girl was. Hermione liked a challenge; she liked to work her brain and expand her knowledge - she did not like the flowing blonde locks that surrounded a perfect and porcelain face, or the sultry accent that was directed at her.
Shutting off the water, Hermione stepped out of the shower and prepared herself for the coming day. It was the first breakfast with the new arrivals and the time at which they arrived and where they sat would be a good indicator as to who they were as people and where their priorities lied.
The nip of the air got to her so she pulled out one of her various gold and red scarves and shoved into her school bag, ready for later when she would be wandering about the castle and grounds trying to get to lesson. Making sure she had packed everything, she left the dorm just as the girls in it began to stir.
The walk down to the Great Hall was mostly empty, as very few students liked to be up at this time, even when there were classes that day. It was peaceful, almost, and Hermione breathed deeply as she thought about how comforting her home away from home could sometimes be. She loved here at Hogwarts, as much as she hated the judgement and the stares and how stupid Harry and Ron could sometimes be, as well as the tendency to attract trouble and therefore break rules. She didn't like breaking rules but she enjoyed the inclusion that came with breaking them with Harry and Ron and the adventures she never would've even imagined in her wildest daydreams.
Rounding a corner, she bumped into someone and was almost sent sprawling to the floor.
"Mon dieu!" The voice shouted as Hermione felt a strong arm wrap around her waist in a desperate attempt to stop her from falling. She froze at the French words, and that tantalizing perfume attacked her senses as she looked up to see who she had walked into. Staring down at her was that annoying blonde-haired, blue-eyed beauty.
"Mes excuse... Oh, eet ees 'ou, non? Ze infamous 'Ermione Granger." She said, her grip on Hermione's waist not loosening one bit as the girl's face contorted into a cocky smile.
"Excuse me? Infamous? Wait a minute, how do you know my name?" She asked, skepticism and disdain lacing her tone.
"Mmm, ma belle, one doez not come to 'Ogwarts wizout doing their research, non? I belieef 'ou owe me a zank 'ou anywayz." The girl spoke with an increasingly smug voice, her eyes wandering over Hermione's flushing face.
"For what exactly, may I ask? You bumped into me!" She argued back, pulling herself out of the French's grip.
"I do not theenk that ees true, mon amie, for eef 'ou had been looking where eet ees 'ou were going, we would not be in the predicament, non?" She chuckled, her eyes filling with mirth as she watched Hermione's growing annoyance. Doubt filled Hermione as she realised what the witch was saying was actually the truth, and she begrudgingly apologised.
"That ees more like it. Now, let me introduce myself. My name ees Fleur Delacour, and I am at your service." She said, taking a slight bow and winking. Hermione had to admit, the newly identified Fleur was very charismatic, and it made her head swim a bit.
"Yes, well, Miss Delacour, if you don't mind, I'm late for breakfast," Hermione responded, shaking her head to clear her thoughts.
"'Ou are going down to breakfast? May I join 'ou?" It was poised as a question, but Hermione knew it was more of a demand than anything. Irritated and hungry, she nodded her head and stepped around her, heading off to the hall in silence as Fleur trailed behind her.
When she reached the doors, she scanned the room briefly and found barely any Hogwarts students to be there, but most, if not all, of the other schools appeared to be sitting and eating, conversing easily amongst themselves and with the odd student.
"Ah, I see my clazmates have already sat down. Eet waz a pleazure to meet you, Mademoiselle Granger." Fleur said, before grabbing her hand and bringing it up so that her lips gently brushed it. Hermione blushed and glared at the girl, pulling her hand back as Fleur chuckled and walked to sit with her classmates who welcomed her into their folds with ease.
Hermione rolled her eyes and sat down, eating her breakfast and reading her most recent interest in Grade 6 charms as a steady stream of students began to enter the Hall.
Harry and Ron plonked themselves down opposite Hermione with 20 minutes before class and began to shovel food into their mouths. "Where were you this morning, Hermione?" Ron asked with a full mouth, bits of egg spraying over the table. Hermione scrunched her face in disgust and put away her book.
"Unlike you Ronald, I like an early start to the morning so I can get some reading in before classes." She snapped, getting up from the table and grabbing her book bag. Storming out the Great Hall, she suddenly wondered where she would go, with 15 minutes before class and the grounds being too frosty to navigate without necessity. Hermione sighed before deciding that she'd slowly make her way to her first class whilst reading some more.
Often when things like this happened, she was reminded of how alone she sometimes felt. Admittedly, she felt like she belonged more here than at home in any muggle school or sometimes her own household when her parents gave her weird looks when they thought she couldn't see them after another story about some of her classes or the people in them. Wallowing a little, she let the despair she'd kept at bay for a while swallow her for a brief period of time, and before she knew it, the bell was signaling for her to get to class.
- Time Skip -
She exited the final class of the day and stretched her neck and back, clicking in multiple places as the stiffness dissipated slightly. She made her way down to the Great Hall at a leisurely pace, having no real reason to rush. It was a Friday and Dinner lasted for a while so she could truly enjoy strolling the halls as they emptied of people and noise.
"Mon amie!" A voice called to her, and she spun around on her heel to see Fleur taking long, elegant strides towards her,
"Fleur... hello." She said, barely hiding her contempt for the girl.
"'Ermione. 'Ou are going to dinner, non? I weel walk weef 'ou." She said, falling into step next to the bushy-haired witch. Hermione merely shrugged and they settled into an awkward silence, making their ways through the eery corridors.
"Zo... 'ow are 'our classes?" She asks casually, staring straight ahead with a rather content expression.
"They're okay - maybe a little boring," Hermione admitted, unsure why she was talking to the girl.
"Ah I zee, ze great 'Ermione Granger ees too, 'ow 'ou say, astucieux for 'er classes." the blonde girl laughed slightly, her pearly white teeth shining slightly in the candlelight. Harumphing, Hermione felt too dignified to grace the woman with a response and so the silence continued once more. They reached the Great Hall, and once more Fleur turned to Hermione with a soft smile on her face.
"I belieef thees ees w'ere we part, non? I weel see 'ou later, mon amie." She says, bringing Hermione's hand up to her mouth and grazing her knuckles with a gentle kiss. Without waiting for a response, she bounced to her friends, with multiple heads turning to drool over her.
Hermione felt a slight annoyance at that, and she marked it up to jealously at how she could look so pretty even after a day of classes and sitting in her uniform. Sitting at the Gryffindor table, she began to pile a healthy amount of food onto her plate as Ron and Harry barely acknowledged her, too deep in their conversation about Quidditch, more specifically Viktor Krum.
Dinner came to an end and with it the scraping of benches and the low chatter of the student body. To Hermione's chagrin, nobody seemed to be in a rush, but she wanted to get through so she could make her way to the library and start to properly study her new and higher-level texts.
After what seemed an eternity, she entered the Libray and found her usual table tucked away towards the back and in the corner.
The content she was studying was riveting and she was positively buzzing with excitement at the idea of learning more of what she had managed to see in a half an hour reading session. As she licked her fingers to turn the next page, she heard some footsteps and shuffling coming towards her, but paid it no mind. It was probably Madam Pince checking her library catalogues and since these texts were her own purchases, she had nothing to worry about. The footsteps got closer and closer, and she could smell something vaguely familiar. She was about to look up and see who it was but the sudden exclamation of "Merde!" and then the shattering of a bottle of ink which just so happened to land right on Hermione's table, splattering her and her belongings with black ink.
She rounded on the person ready to yell when she met the sheepish eyes of Fleur Delacour.
"Ahh, ahem, 'ello 'Ermione, it seems I may 'ave had a little, how you say, mésaventure." Her eyes shifted nervously over the splashed ink, the inky belongings and one enraged Hermione Granger.