Watched Deathly Hallows. I thought it was quite good. Although Fleur only spoke 1 line and had like 4 minutes of screentime max. D:
Also, thanks to aoxomoxoa for pointing out my errors! I've made the relevant adjustments. I should find a beta soon. =/
and those who reviewed, thank you very much!
Reviews are greatly appreciated~ :D
Disclaimer: nothing is mine. except the book i've made up. unless something like that really exists.
Hermione wanted to smack herself on the forehead.
She removed her shoes gingerly and stepped into the house, subconsciously inhaling the scent that Fleur always seemed to give off while Ginny followed Hermione closely behind. Perhaps Fleur had not done her own renovations yet, because the house looked rather plain and simple. There were blue curtains, two bookshelves, a grandfather's clock, a small white sofa with two cushions on it, a panel that displayed some silver photo frames neatly and a mahogany side table that had an oil lantern, a tissue box and what seemed like a tiny ashtray. It looked so comfortable and cozy, and yet so not Fleur. "Make yourselves 'Ome, I'll be in the kitchen to prepare the meal," Fleur said, gesturing to the sofa, before putting on an apron and disappearing behind the door.
They both sat down on the sofa awkwardly, taking in the surroundings. Once Fleur was out of sight, Ginny immediately turned to Hermione, hissing, "Hermione? Why the heck did you accept her invitation? I thought you hated her."
"I… I don't know," Hermione admitted.
"I think it's her thrall." She suggested.
Ginny gave Hermione a suspicious look as if she didn't seem to accept that as an answer. Hermione understood, it wasn't a very valid reason, but that was mostly true. She had no idea why she got herself into this situation, her mouth just had to open and say the wrong word. Fleur did say she could control her thrall, which only meant two things. Either Fleur really wanted to have dinner with me, or perhaps I was… No. That can't be it. "That aside, don't you think Phlegm's being rather nice and friendly towards us? I would have slapped you or something if you insulted me repeatedly instead of tolerating it all," Ginny commented, "My impression of her has always been someone who only knew how to flick her hair and smile prettily."
Hermione looked startled at Ginny's words and spoke instinctively, "Fleur's not like that!"
Now Ginny was both suspicious and worried. Hermione's behavior was getting weirder. "Are you sure you're alright Hermione? Has all the fresh air gotten to your head? Because that's the second time you're complimenting her today. "
Hermione chose to ignore Ginny instead and walked over to the panel, focusing on the photo frames that Fleur had placed neatly there. The first photo was one of a young Fleur which wore a white sundress, she was by the seaside looking rather happily, smiling and waving, and there was another, of an older Fleur and Gabrielle that photo looked as if it was taken recently. And then there was this photo of Hogsmeade that stood out, because there was no one in that photo. Anyone else would have not paid a second glance to it or thought that Fleur liked Hogsmeade a lot, but Hermione knew better. She recognized that photo and gulped. It was taken on their third visit. Fleur wanted something to remember them by and Hermione had refused to take any photos. The idea of a photograph of an imperfect bushy-hair girl (and the fact that she had a bad hair day didn't help much either), standing next to picture perfect Fleur was too much for her. She had told Fleur that, which lead to the Veela numerous reassurance that Hermione was beautiful. However, Hermione was as Hermione always was, skeptical. So when the shutter snapped, she ran out of the camera range, dragging Fleur with her.
"Earth to Hermione," Ginny spoke, waving at her, "What's there to stare at anyway?"
"She's probably busy admiring my face. But 'Ermione, I'm 'ere now. So you can come over, 'ave your dinner and stare at the real thing instead," Fleur suddenly spoke, while using her wand to levitate plates of food and utensils.
Hermione snapped out of her recollection and looked annoyed. The aroma of food wafted across together with Fleur's scent worked quite well, causing her scowl to deepen further as she sat down opposite Fleur at the dining table. "I was not! Who would fancy someone like you anyway?" she retorted.
Fleur resisted a snort as it would be ungraceful of her. Veelas don't snort. Her grandmother would certainly be ashamed of her if she did. "I don't know…" and she raised her finger to her head, pretending to think hard,"maybe some brown hair brown eyed girl?" she mocked.
Hermione turned red at that comment. "The food looks delicious, let's eat before it cools down," she said, trying to change the topic, secretly hoping that Ginny wouldn't read too much into it.
She wasn't lying though. The food Fleur prepared indeed looked rather appetizing. There was bouillabaisse served with rouille and grilled bread, a bowl of salad as well as a plate of potatoes topped with herbs. After eating a few mouthfuls, Ginny exclaimed, "Hermione you weren't kidding, it really does taste good! I'm surprised."
"Thank you for the compliment, my little sister loves my cooking too," Fleur said, smiling rather happily while she reached out for some more bread.
Stretching her long slender legs, she touched something equally smooth. The smile on the blonde's face grew wider as she moved her feet along the leg of the other girl and slowly edged up. The expression on Hermione's face was priceless. She had apparently tried her best to push Fleur's feet away as discreetly as one could, but the blonde wouldn't give up that easily and continued her advances and spoke, as though she wasn't playing a game under the table, "'Ermione, you look a little pale. I think you should eat more. I've specially cooked Bouillabaisse for you."
Ginny suddenly stopped eating and gave them both a weird look. Turning to Hermione who indeed was looking rather pale, the Weasley frowned before talking, "Are you alright, Hermione? And I never knew that you liked Bouillabaisse. You mean you've told her what food you like? Since when were you two that close?"
"She doesn't," Hermione replied firmly, while still trying to stop Fleur under the table," I've never told her. And besides, she didn't know that we were coming."
Fleur interrupted and explained, "I don't. I've 'eard it in passing,"
"In other words, you eavesdropped. And that was two years ago!" Hermione spoke with a raised voice while accidentally kicking Fleur in her rage.
Fleur looked unperturbed, the kick didn't seem to have affected her, and she replied, "Oui. Say whatever you like. But be it two years or twenty years, I'll still remember anything about you."
"Alright then, I'll take up your offer. Did I tell you how much I hate you?"
"Non. But I've told you how much I love you."
That was the final straw. Resisting the urge to kick Fleur again, on purpose this time, she stood up and spoke as cordially as she could, her voice trembling slightly, "Thank you for the meal. It was delicious. But we have spent so much time in here, we'll probably turn into someone like you. We have to get going," and Hermione turned her head, grabbed Ginny and stomped out of the door before Fleur could open her mouth and reply.
Fresh air graced their faces as a gentle wind blew at them. Hermione was glad to be out again, breathing some air that didn't contain any traces of Fleur. Although their stomachs were feeling rather satisfied and happy, she was feeling more annoyed than ever, a scowl returning back to her face. There was something that had been nagging repeatedly at her head, but she couldn't quite figure out what the problem was. Ginny's question didn't seem to help Hermione either, "Is there something going on between you and Fleur that I don't know about?"
"Of course there isn't!" Hermione lied, rather indignantly and she stubbornly refused to look at Ginny until they reached the common room.
Fleur Fleur Fleur. Why does that girl seem to have some sort of mysterious control over me?
As they climbed through the portrait and entered the common room, Harry and Ron greeted them. "Hermione!" Harry whispered into her ears while Ginny was busy plopping herself comfortably on an armchair. "I've got a note. I'll be meeting Dumbledore next week,"
"We ended up at Fleur's house. And she cooked us a meal," Ginny offered, trying to start a conversation while swinging her legs.
The fireplace crackled and Hermione found herself shooting Ginny an irritated look for that topic. Ron who didn't seem to notice the change in Hermione's expression, looked rather jealous and asked, "Why would she do that?"
"Ask Hermione. She's the one who agreed. I just went along with her. I wouldn't want to have dinner with Phlegm, but I can't leave Hermione alone with that woman, can I? As much as I'll hate to admit it, that girl can really cook. Her house is different from what I'd expected though, it looks like some old man's house, nothing like what I'd expect from a French Veela, "Ginny rambled.
Hermione wasn't paying too much attention and was busy scribbling some stuff on a parchment, which oddly resembled Fleur's house until Harry remarked, "Perhaps it resembles Slughorn's house? She's his apprentice after all. "
Hermione's head turned up almost immediately," You really think it resembles Fleur's house?"
"I wouldn't know. I've never seen her house with my own eyes. But judging from Ginny's description, it does. Why are you so interested in them anyway? It's just a house," Harry asked, quizzically.
"How different can houses be anyway. The standard furniture can't differ much," Ginny inserted.
"She doesn't seem like someone who would have the taste of an old man, I would have expected something more modern," Hermione answered, half-agreeing with Ginny.
Her eyes narrowed slightly as she had a sudden revelation and she stood up, announcing, "I'm going to the library."
"Hermione? It's late. You'll get detention if anyone catches you! You can go there tomorr-"
"There's something I need to confirm!" and she ran out, clutching some quills, parchment and ink.
Just exactly what was going on between the quarter-Veela and Slughorn was what Hermione wanted to know. It seems like she had no way of finding out what Fleur was up to. Or was there?
"Veelas, Veelas Veelas. There must have been a book here about it somewhere. I know I've seen it before," Hermione muttered to herself as she walked along the bookshelves, her sharp brown eyes scanning rapidly.
The library was rather empty as it was nearly ten. Hermione knew she had to hurry as there was not much time, but if she didn't find that book that she was looking for, she wouldn't be able to get any sleep that night. She placed a chosen pile of books on the floor and began to flip through them. She found a page on Veelas after a few minutes and began to read. Veelas - Magical creatures that are usually shrouded in secrecy. They happen to be stunningly beautiful and have a thrall that can entice most people. And that was all the entire book had to say about them. Very useful. Like I didn't know that. Hermione thought, rather irritably and continued her search.
Although she found a few more articles on Veelas, she deemed them useless as there was practically nothing much written about them. There was only one line that Hermione was interested in, in which she jotted down eagerly on her parchment. Once the Veela has mastered her thrall, it is nearly impossible to gain immunity. So Fleur was speaking the truth, about being able to master the thrall. But that was not what she was looking for now. Hermione was beginning to panic a little, thinking fervently. But what. Where? Where could I have seen that? Of course! She closed the book she was looking through and she made a tutting sound. I've been looking in the wrong section all along.
Running over to the restriction section, Hermione grabbed the book that she was looking for all along. The book was old and yellow and had a few beautiful women on the front cover which glared dangerously at the reader. However, despite how ancient the book seemed, Hermione noted that the overall condition of the book was still well-maintained. She had read it once, as a form of light reading and took great care handling it then. Flipping the book open gingerly, a smile formed on her face. Hermione Granger had enjoyed this book immensely when she last read it.
It was an in-depth book about dangerous females and their escapades, be it for country, pride or money. The first chapter was on Morgan le Fay, the second on another witch, another chapter devoted to Sirens and Hermione flipped through the entire book grinning. Her suspicions were now somewhat confirmed, all she needed was the motive and proof. She closed the book and placed it back into the bookshelf, her fingers lingering on the spine of the book, touching the golden words that were embossed on it.
Femme Fatale.
When Hermione walked past Slughorn in the hallway, he gave her a small wink. Hermione blanched, wondering what Fleur had told Slughorn. She spent her free time in the past week debating after she had come out with a hypothesis. But that was all, just another rough idea. However if by any chance what she guessed was right, Hermione had an urge to let Fleur have a taste of her own medicine. There was, a way in which she could attempt to wheedle the information out from Fleur. But why I am so interested in this? Until she figured that out, Hermione didn't want to make any hasty decisions yet. She had made a list of pros and cons, adding more to the list whenever she thought a point. Curiosity was a factor, but that didn't seem to justify anything. Fleur was definitely here for a reason. On whose orders? She needed to do some more investigating. The library wouldn't be enough.
The following morning after Dumbledore's lesson, Harry had immediately filled both Ron and Hermione on the memories Dumbledore showed him, informing them all about the young Riddle as they walked to the greenhouses for Herbology. "Blimey, the young Riddle is kinda scary," Ron said, "But why is Dumbledore telling you so much about You-Know-Who's past anyway? What's the point?"
"I think it's rather interesting. Harry needs to learn more about the enemy. Knowledge is power," Hermione replied, before sitting down next to Harry.
Deciding that she should preach what she said, Hermione probed, "That said. Harry? I don't suppose you've heard anything about Slughorn?"
"Hermione, are you still going on about the something-is-fishy-between-Slughorn-and-Fleur? Because I think my theory about Malfoy being a death eater makes more sense," Harry mumbled a reply softly as Professor Sprout had already started the lesson.
Hermione didn't get a chance to reply as they had to get started on extracting the pods of their Snargalaff. Harry was out. It would be too direct to approach Slughorn too. If the Veela had any plans, alerting Slughorn about it might turn out to be rather detrimental. There was only one way. The next party Slughorn had, Hermione was going to make sure she learned something new. It's okay to be reckless for once right?