Normally, Fleur used Saturday mornings as an excuse to sleep in until lunch, but Harry had called for a pre-dawn Quidditch practice, much to her extreme dismay. This was one of those rare times where she had to use an alarm clock to help her wake up, and it rang sharply at six am, jerking her out of a peaceful slumber. The night before, she had charmed it so as only she would hear it ring in the morning, for she did not wish to wake up her sleeping dorm mates at such an ungodly hour. It was a simple charm really: she had borrowed Parvati's clock, tapped her wand against it, and muttered, "chatoria," though she made a mental note to have it play some soothing music next time she had to use it to wake herself up, which was bound to happen. Music is a much better wakeup call than a shrill RING, in her opinion.

Dragging herself tiredly out of bed, she paused and smiled softly, through bleary eyes, at a sleeping Hermione, who was sprawled diagonally on her stomach on the twin-sized mattress. After brushing her teeth and dressing into her Quidditch robes, Fleur quickly made her way down to the Quidditch pitch, pausing to grab her Firebolt (a present from her father when she made the team in third year) from the broom shed. Half the team was already at the pitch when she arrived, and they all looked exhausted except for Harry, who seemed to be wide awake, much to her envy. She had not gone to sleep until after two in the morning, for she and Hermione had spent the majority of their evening and night talking and kissing in their dormitory, the only place where they felt somewhat safe not to be caught.

"Morning, Fleur," Harry said to her as she approached. Glancing up at the dark, she would hardly call this morning. "Sleep well?"

Leaving her broom floating in the air, the blonde collapsed onto the grass and, conscious not to get her hair in the sand, lied down and closed her eyes. "Wonderfully," she muttered tiredly, shutting her eyes and placing her hands beneath her head when she felt the cold, wet grass touch her neck. She had been disappointed when the snow melted during the week.

"Where were you last night?" Pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, for they had slid down slightly, he sat down in the grass next to her. "You and Hermione both seemed to disappear after dinner."

Fleur knew last night that their absences would be noticed, she wasn't stupid, and so she had already come up with a cover story. "I visited Hagrid after dinner," which was true, "and then I went straight to my dorm when I got back," she said, readying herself to lie. "I've fallen really behind in some classes and I knew I wasn't likely to get anything done today so I decided to spend my night catching up on homework. Hermione was in there when I got back, writing a letter or something; I didn't ask."

"Wait," Harry said, a dawning look in his eyes, which made her panic for a moment. "You were alone with Hermione in your dormitory? Have you talked to her yet?"

She breathed a silent sigh of relief that that was all he wanted to know. With her eyes still closed, she shook her head. "Not yet."

"You said you were going to last week."

"Is there really any need to?" she asked, opening her eyes now and staring at Harry, who looked slightly irritated with her. His unruly hair was even messier than it usually was and Fleur thought he looked quite good-looking.

"What do you mean?" he questioned curiously.

"She seems happier than she was before, doesn't she? There's not really any reason for me to go and talk to her anymore." Hermione had looked much happier after last Saturday, so Fleur decided to play innocent with Harry and not tell him she talked to her (and did much more). It seemed like things would be easier if they appeared not to be friends still because then there would be less suspicion when she finally broke it off with Matthew. However, as time went on, Fleur marveled at how idiotic an idea it had been; things would be a lot easier for them both if they could spend time together in open eyes of everyone, including her boyfriend. Then, they would at least be able to acknowledge some form of their relationship instead of continuing to ignore each other in front of other people. When she ended things with Matthew, people might suspect that Hermione may have had something to do with it, but no one would suspect that it was because they were in a relationship. Most people didn't think that way, to suspect that the two girls were possibly seeing each other, and if either of them thought that is what people really did suspect, then they were merely being paranoid, weren't they? At least that's what Fleur told herself.

He thought about this for a moment. "I guess so…" he said rather reluctantly. Harry was confused. Hermione really did appear a lot happier than she had since school started, but her and Fleur hadn't spoken to each other in months, except under forced situations like last week in Potions when Professor Slughorn assigned the two girls to work on an in-class project together, and even then they barely talked, preferring to communicate over written notes (they had aced the project). However, if Fleur hadn't talked to her, then why did she seem so cheerful and happy?

"Yeah, so it's all good." She felt a little more awake and was thankful for this because moments later, the rest of the team arrived and Harry hopped up and began instructions immediately. Being awake was mandatory if she wanted to pull off the stunts he asked her to do without falling off her broom. Because she had a Firebolt, like him, he normally asked her to pull the more extreme stunts of the chasers, which normally involved stealing the Quaffle mid-throw (from the opposing team), speeding off with it before the other team could even realize what had happened.

Practice went on for hours. At around eight, some Slytherins drifted into the stands, eating bits of buttered toast they had taken from the Great Hall: their boos and catcalls irritated Fleur so much that she accidently threw the Quaffle so hard at Ron that he nearly fell off his broom, completely winded. He quickly held his hands up and told her that it was okay when she went to apologize.

"Keep that up, Delacour! Then you'll lose another member…not that losing Weasley is much of a loss!"

Turning a bright shade of red, Ron tightened his grip on his broom, staring directly ahead with a hard look on his face. Fleur merely ignored Pansy, catching the Quaffle as Ginny threw it to her. "I really hate her," she muttered to herself, but Ginny had heard.

"Don't we all? I think she's just bitter that Malfoy's gone and dumped her." The redhead grinned at the prospect of Parkinson being rejected, and Fleur laughed. She felt somewhat sorry for the girl (she knew how it felt), but her sympathy was limited seeing as the other girl was calling increasingly rude things to her and the rest of team.

"Just ignore them," Harry told them as he flew by, continuing his quest to find the snitch. "Try the Drop-Low maneuver; Demelza, you lead!"

At half past nine, the chasers were experimenting with a new stunt; they all felt utterly exhausted, but were happy that practice would be ending in half an hour, with plenty of time to spare for them to go and eat some breakfast. The Slytherins had vacated the stands long ago after getting bored with harassing the Gryffindor team, but Fleur had seen Matthew arrive moments before, waving to her briefly before he sat down to watch them. She grinned at him and returned her concentration to flying circles around Ginny and Demelza as they furiously threw the Quaffle back and forth to each other. When she saw Hermione enter the stands a few feet away from the blond boy five minutes later, carrying a large stack of toast, she nearly lost control of her broom, spinning around before she oriented herself upright.

"What was that, Fleur?" Ginny asked, stopping in front of her, looking concerned. "Are you okay?"

Swallowing hard, she did not even look at the brunette who had just entered, or Matthew, who appeared to invite Hermione to sit with him. "I'm fine, just lost control a bit," she assured her. And then suddenly, a stray bludger came out of nowhere and collided with Fleur's left hand, which had been resting near the nose of her broom. "Fucking shit!" she cried out in pain, not even realizing that she had was once again spinning out of control until Harry roared, "Fleur!"

Thankfully, she was only ten feet above the ground when she fell. Landing on her back with a painful POOSH, she groaned and simply lay there on the cold sand, nursing her hand and wondering if anything had been broken. Moments later, the entire team was gathered around her and they helped her to sit up.

"Can you bend your fingers?" Harry asked worriedly. He was no stranger to Quidditch injuries.

Eyes screwed up in pain, she tried to move her fingers, attempting to ignore how much it hurt. "I…I think so," she choked, surprised at how much effort it took to speak.

"It's not broken then," he said, feeling relieved.

"Lasis shariot!" It felt like her entire body had been dipped in a bath of warm water; the pain in her hand and back receded as her whole body felt very tingly and relaxed. She looked up and saw Hermione and Matthew hurrying towards them; the brunette stowed her wand away in her pocket when they approached. "God, Fleur, are you okay?" she asked, looking extremely concerned while she knelt down beside the blonde, taking her hand and examining it. The pain returned when she did this, but Fleur felt too relaxed to even care.

Tilting her head, the younger girl gave Hermione a very lopsided smile. "I like what you did with your hair today; it looks so nice," she said blissfully, admiring how pretty the brunette looked with her hair tied back off her face and held in a messy bun. She was completely oblivious to the bewildered stares she received from everyone around her.

Blushing, Hermione let go of her hand and said, "Thanks." The blonde looked deliriously at her, and the older girl's features pulled into an expression of nervousness. Perhaps it would have been better to use a different charm on her girlfriend, but when she saw Fleur cry out in pain when she was hit by that bludger and fall off her broom, Hermione had performed the first healing charm that had come to her mind.

"What kind of spell did you use exactly?" Matthew asked, eyeing the loopy blonde and feeling effectively baffled by her behavior. She seemed rather…high, in his opinion.

"Lasis shariot; it's a relaxing charm that makes you feel very unconcerned with your surroundings. With Fleur, it makes it so that she doesn't mind the pain in her hand." Some nodded their heads in understanding, and Matthew looked relieved that his girlfriend wasn't in anymore pain. It annoyed Hermione that he was there; she had been exceedingly irritated when she came to the pitch to wait for practice to end so she could invite Fleur on a walk afterwards, and had seen Matthew watching the athletic blonde from the stands. It bugged her to no end that Fleur was both their girlfriends, and was getting more and more impatient for her to break up with him. "We should still take her to the Hospital Wing though. Madam Pomfrey needs to cast a proper healing spell on her hand."

"I'll take her," Matthew offered, leaning down to help the girl up. "C'mon, babe, let's go get you healed up." He pulled her up carefully, tenderly even, wrapped his arm around her waist, holding her close to his body, as she could not walk on her shaky legs.

Hermione bit her tongue when she remembered that she was supposed to continue her attitude of indifference towards the other girl (whose horrible idea was that?) and battled a new surge of contempt for Matthew, forshe was the one who wanted to take care of the younger girl. Wasn't ither that cast the charm? Shouldn't she be the one to deal with its consequence? A pause…And had Matthew always called Fleur 'babe?' That was something that did not sit right with her at all, whatsoever. How long had he been calling her that? Did she like it? And should Hermione herself call her that as well? She did not know, but even in her mind it sounded awkward.

"I want Hermione to take me," she slurred, unsuccessfully attempting to pull herself out of Matthew's strong arms. Her eyes were half closed and she looked about ready to go to sleep. For a moment, the brunette wondered if she had cast too strong a charm, but then realized that four hours of Quidditch practice had probably drained the other girl. Exhaustion plus a relaxation spell equaled excessive drowsiness, Hermione remembered reading.

"Oh…" He looked slightly stung and glanced back at Hermione, who shrugged helplessly. "You don't mind do you?" he asked, remembering that the girls did not have a smooth past.

"Not at all." She tried to act as nonchalant as possible, but it was quite difficult seeing as how pleased she felt.

Harry hid a smile when he saw how eager Hermione was to help the drunken-like blonde; it was so obvious how she felt, and he wondered if Fleur would notice too…probably not, seeing as she was in no state to care about anything (spell). He snickered when the blonde practically threw herself at Hermione, who stumbled back, trying to keep her balance. "C'mon, Fleur. We're going to go to the Hospital Wing now," he heard her say as they walked off the pitch.

"You smell so good, Hermione," Fleur murmured into the other girl's ear, letting her lips brush across it and grinning when she felt her shiver. "Like lotion."

"I put some on after my shower." This was definitely quite the task, seeing as she had to drag most of the other girl's weight, for she was unable to stand on her legs properly.

"Mm," she hummed. "I'm really tired." The exhaustion was finally beginning to hit her. "Why did you have to use that spell? It's made me really sleepy; all I want to do is sleep."

"You can sleep when we get to the Hospital Wing."

"But I want to sleep now." Attempting to pull herself away from Hermione to lie down on the grass, she gave a 'hmph' noise and pouted when the shorter girl continued her firm grip.

"You can sleep when we get to the Hospital Wing," she repeated, rolling her eyes and wondering how she could possibly find the other girl's behavior endearing right now. Glancing around to make sure there was no one watching, Hermione leaned up and quickly kissed the blonde's pouted lips, unable to resist temptation, however, she pulled back when Fleur tried to deepen the kiss.

"Mmm, you should kiss me more often," she said blissfully, resting her head on the other girl's shoulder. "You have such nice lips…they're so soft."

Blushing at the compliment, Hermione said nothing. They were inside the castle now; people gave them curious looks as they stumbled by and she felt slightly flustered by the attention, not as used to it as Harry or Fleur was.

"Why are people always staring at me?" Fleur wondered as she and Hermione walked down the corridor towards Transfiguration. Moments ago, she had caught a group of Ravenclaw sixth years gazing at her as they passed by. The attention did not make her uncomfortable, but she was curious as to why they stared.

Shaking her head, Hermione gave her a disbelieving look. "You're very good-looking, Fleur," she stated matter-of-factly.

"Am I?"

She seemed so perplexed by this concept that the brunette laughed and playfully nudged her friend's arm. "Yes. You really are absolutely stunning…and people have started to notice." Ever since they came back for fourth year, Fleur seemed to have caught the attention of nearly every male student in the castle. Over the summer, when they went to the Burrow for the Quidditch World Cup, Hermione had noticed a change in her friend's appearance. Her hair was lighter, if that was even possible, bordering a silvery color, and she had cut it so that it was layered in a very attractive manner. Her body had also gone through some changes as well, having formed the right curves to make her much more woman-like.

"Really?"

Hermione nodded. "Yes."

"Then why don't people stare at you as well?" Fleur asked, truly confused. Hermione was extremely good-looking after all. Or at least that is what her gut told her every time she was around the other girl. She found it exceedingly difficult to box up her screaming feelings of attraction for the beautiful brunette.

Flattered by Fleur's indirect compliment, she self-consciously smoothed a strand of wavy hair behind her ear, and blushed. "Because I'm not as pretty as you," she said. It wasn't as though Hermione was unconfident with how she looked; she simply did not spend as much time obsessing over it as others (Lavender and Parvati).

"Sure you are." She sounded very sincere. "You're way prettier than me." Truthfully, she felt a little self-conscious under their scrutinizing gazes and could not imagine why they did not take to staring at Hermione as well.

"Thank you, but I'm rather happy that you're getting all the attention and not me. I hate when people stare at me."

"I love how you're so nice." She sounded serious, her there was that usual hint of playfulness in her voice that gave her away when she teased the easily agitated brunette.

"I know."

Ten minutes later, they had finally made it to the Hospital Wing. It was empty inside and Hermione helped Fleur sit on one of the beds before knocking on Madam Pomfrey's office door. "Madam Pomfrey?" she called, softly hitting her index knuckle against the oak door, and taking a step back when it opened.

"Hermione? What brings you here?" she asked curiously. She hadn't seen the sixth year girl since last year after the Department of Mysteries ordeal, thank frankly, she was quite happy not to see the girl, as every time she saw her, she was injured or visiting an injured friend.

"Fleur Delacour was hit in the hand by a bludger during Quidditch practice. I used the Lasis Shariot charm on her, but I didn't know how to mend her hand," Hermione explained while leading Madam Pomfrey over to the bed where Fleur was lying half asleep on.

"Lasis Shariot? That's quite advanced magic for someone of your age," she said, impressed. Healing spells were normally something learned in seventh year and beyond.

Blushing, Hermione said nothing and watched as Madam Pomfrey took Fleur's hand, examined it for a moment, and tapped her wand against, performing a silent healing spell. "There, it's all healed. It was mostly internal bleeding; could have been a lot worse than it was. Honestly, some of the injuries that come through here because of Quidditch…" She shook her head looking forlorn. "Miss Delacour should stay here for a few hours and sleep off some of her exhaustion before she goes back to Gryffindor common room." Hermione nodded, happy that she would not have to drag her girlfriend across the castle again; the girl was much heavier than she looked. "And I want you to make sure she gets a good night's rest tonight, which means no staying up late. I know how you teenagers get on Saturday nights…"

"All right."

"Okay. She's going to be sleeping for a while, Miss Granger; there's no need for you to stay here," Madam Pomfrey told her.

Nodding, Hermione said, "I'm just going to stay until she falls asleep. Is that okay?"

"Of course."

When the nurse went back inside her office, the brunette sat down in the chair next to Fleur's bed, which felt uncomfortable and cold through the fabric of her jeans. The younger girl looked at her with sleepy eyes and grabbed her hand. "Can I sleep now?" she asked quietly, in a voice so childlike that Hermione's heart nearly broke from the cuteness of it.

Caressing the back of Fleur's now healed hand, she nodded, smiling softly. "Yes, you can sleep now." Tenderly, she smoothed the offending hair off the blonde's forehead, frowning for a moment when she felt sand in between her fingers. "Your back doesn't hurt, does it?" She had forgotten that the other girl had fallen off of her broom from ten feet in the air, and would summon Madam Pomfrey if there was anything she needed to mend in her back.

"Mm…no, not really," she whispered, her eyes fluttering shut for a moment before reopening and looking at the brunette with a very tired gaze. "Your bed is so much more comfortable than this one."

Chuckling, Hermione neglected to say that every bed in Hogwarts had the same kind of mattress, though it was something she had mentioned countless times before whenever Fleur called her bed 'more comfortable.' "You can sleep in my bed tonight," Hermione offered.

"Will you be in it?"

"Of course. It is the more comfortable one after all." Truthfully, she wanted nothing more than to sleep in the arms of the younger blonde; it was her most favorite of places after all.

"Mm…yay." She grinned blissfully and closed her eyes. "I love you," she murmured sleepily.

"Love you too." Leaning down, she kissed Fleur's lips softly, realizing that the other girl had already fallen asleep.

She couldn't breathe; her whole body felt on fire as she stumbled madly through the corridors in a rush to get to the Hospital Wing. Her hands were so sweaty, her heart beating so fast that it hurt; Fleur could not recall a time she had ever felt like this. She felt like she was dying, which was why she had left the safety of her dormitory and was now blundering through the castle, feeling ready to pass out. Tears were like a water fall, running down her face in a steady stream and her chest ached so deeply that she thought she would never be happy again. Where was Hermione when she needed her? A fresh ache of pain burst through her chest, causing her to rest her back against the wall and slide down so she was sitting on the floor. Oh yeah, she was with him.

"Oh my god…" She openly wept and could not find the strength to stand back up, for her legs had grown to be so shaky that she was unable to stand properly, let along walk. "Somebody," she whispered, not finding the strength to scream. "Help…" Choking, she fell over so that her whole body was lying on the floor. Cradled in a ball, she continued to cry, praying that somebody, anybody, would find her. But that was wishful thinking, wasn't it? Everyone was still at the Yule Ball and would be for several more hours. Including Hermione.

It hurt…it hurt so badly; her chest was like an open gun wound, the life was slowly bleeding out of her. Lying on the cold, stone floor, Fleur wondered how she had gotten like this: when had her feelings grown for Hermione so much that she wanted to die when the older brunette had told her she was going to the Ball with Viktor Krum. Today had arrived; she had holed herself up in the library all day until eight o'clock, when she was sure that Hermione had left the common room, and then slowly made her way back to her dormitory, where she then proceeded to enter an emotional breakdown. Rather ironic that in the library she had been closer to the Hospital Wing than in her dormitory.

"Somebody, help me…" she repeated the same quiet cry for help. She was unable to get up, and she would have crawled to the Hospital Wing from where she lay, but her arms seemed to have failed her as well. Mustering up every ounce of strength she could, she screamed, "HELP ME!" Afterwards, all her energy gone, Fleur passed out, which was how Sir Nicholas found her moments later when he had heard her cry from the next corridor over.

Her eyes were still closed when she woke up four hours later. Noting the soft mattress she laid on, Fleur concluded that she had somehow reached the Hospital Wing. Her body felt a hundred times better; her chest no longer ached like an open shotgun wound, and her heart rate was a slow, steady beat against her left breast. She was dimly aware of voices whispering, trying not to wake her, to each other near her bed and she strained her ears to listen to what they were saying.

"It was a panic attack," came the whispered voice of Madam Pomfrey. "Sir Nicholas found her two floors below, passed out on the floor. He says he heard a cry for help and when he went to investigate, he found Delacour. Apparently she was trying to make it here…"

"Will she be all right?" McGonagall asked, and for the first time ever, Fleur could hear worry in her voice.

"Oh yes, she'll be fine. I immediately fed her a Calming Drought when she arrived. She suffered a severe panic attack, one which rendered her almost completely immobile. I'm surprised she made it as far as she did. I'll be giving her another dose of the Drought as soon as she wakes up."

"What caused it?" said another small, shaken voice. Hermione. Fleur's heart leapt.

"Extreme emotion of a sort; Nobody really knows but her," said Madam Pomfrey.

"I knew something was wrong," Hermione's voice cracked. "I knew it. She came to breakfast but that was the last I saw of her the entire day. This is all my fault!"

"Now, Miss Granger, you mustn't blame yourself," McGonagall soothed. "Do you know why she chose not to attend the Ball?"

"No! She never told me! And all those boys had asked her too…"

Fleur had opened her eyes a smidgen by that point and she was too busy admiring how beautiful Hermione looked in her periwinkle blue dress robes and sleeked up hair to notice the knowing look Madam Pomfrey and McGonagall gave each other. The brunette, who had looked petrified a moment ago, twitched in surprise when she saw that Fleur was gazing at her, obviously very much awake.

"Fleur!" she exclaimed and rushed to her side. There were tears running down her face and the blonde thought she looked far too beautiful to taint that image of perfection with such sadness.

"Hey…" It surprised her how hoarse her voice sounded. "You're here…"

"Of course I'm here!" She wondered if McGonagall had found her when she heard that one of her Gryffindors had been hospitalized. "I'm just so sorry that I couldn't be here sooner." Taking Fleur's hand, she held it tightly in her grasp, and it felt nice and warm against her own. The blonde knew she must have looked a fright, and knew she should feel self-conscious, but at the moment, she was far too exhausted to feel much of anything, except happiness that Hermione had finally come, was finally there with her.

"I needed you so badly," she began, oblivious to the two adults in the room. "I was so scared I was going to die."

"Oh…" Appearing as though she were about to have a breakdown of her very own, she quickly gathered herself, realizing that she needed to be strong for her best friend. "I knew I shouldn't have gone to the Ball…"

"No! Don't blame yourself; it wasn't your fault." Though technically it was, wasn't it? "I don't know what happened…I was fine one moment, but the next…I just…I don't know."

"Why did you…why did you break down like that?"

"I don't know," she repeated for a third time. "I just lost it, lost all control I guess…"

"I'm so sorry I wasn't there when you needed me," Hermione apologized again, clearly distraught. "But I'm here now. And I'm not going anywhere."

"Whoa…" came a voice from the open door of the Hospital Wing. Hermione jerked up with that deer-caught-in-headlights sort of look on her face as Harry and Ginny stared dumbstruck at her from the entrance.

"What?" came another voice. "Is everything okay? Is Fleur all right?" Matthew, who had not seen a thing, pushed his way into the room, looking extremely worried. When he saw Hermione standing over the sleeping blonde, he sighed in relief. "You guys had me scared for a second there," he said, not noticing anything out of the ordinary as he went to stand by his sleeping girlfriend.

Hermione, Harry, and Ginny simply stared at one another.


A/N: So I had another spare day to write, which I took advantage of, and I managed to finish this chapter. I apologize for any mistakes, but I wanted to have this posted before I went to bed and in my tired state, I might not have caught as many mistakes as I normally would have. Also, I'm started posting status updates on my profile as to where I am on writing each chapter and my estimated date of posting. So if you guys are ever curious to when I may have the next chapter up, just take a look at my profile and it'll tell you. I thought that was better than leaving you guys in the dark about my updating.