Harry Potter and all related characters and places are owned by JK Rowling - I just make them dance for my own amusement.
Apologies for this chapter taking so long! I'd originally intended to get it done in time for Christmas, but it kinda ran away from me. However, you are in for a treat - it's the longest chapter yet. And yes, this is the big coming out chapter!
~xxx~
Hermione woke from a rather pleasant dream on Christmas morning. She remained still for a few minutes, just enjoying the warmth of her bed and the quickly fading mental image of Fleur's smiling face. She couldn't remember exactly what had been happening in the dream, but she could definitely recall the feeling of the French witch's lips against her own. She smiled inanely, and stretched both her arms and legs, letting out a yawn. The peace was broken when a face framed by long red hair appeared through the curtains of her four-poster.
"Do you spend any time with people in your own year?" Hermione asked sleepily. Ginny just grinned.
"Come on, Hermione!" she said happily. "It's Christmas!" Her head disappeared back through the curtains, before they were pulled back completely. Ginny was wearing a scarlet dressing gown; almost the same shade as her hair, giving her the appearance of wearing a hooded robe. Hermione regretfully sat up, leaving the warm comfort of her bed behind.
"Merry Christmas," she grumbled, rubbing her eyes. As she did so, Ginny moved round to the foot of her bed and started throwing the presents that were piled there up onto the duvet. "You've already opened yours, I take it?"
Ginny nodded. "Thanks for yours," the redhead replied. "You don't mind if I don't tell anyone though, do you? Ron'll go mad if he knows."
"You're going to have to tell them at some point," Hermione said with a smile. "Or are you going to keep pinching their brooms forever?"
"If I have to," Ginny said with a smirk. "Now come on; open yours!" Hermione gave another yawn and pulled the closest parcel towards her, but Ginny stopped her. "No, this one first." She grabbed a small square package that was wrapped in sky blue paper with a gold bow. "It's from you-know-who."
Hermione raised an eyebrow.
"No not that you-know-who: your you-know-who!"
The present from Fleur turned out to be a beautiful golden pendant. It's design was incredibly intricate, almost as if the metal had been sewn together from strands of golden thread, entwining together into a point at the bottom. Within the metal was a single gem, long and thin; it's colour a perfect match for Fleur's eyes. It looked incredibly expensive, and Ginny's expression was almost one of jealousy.
From the youngest Weasley herself, she had received a romance novel, with a twist: Ginny had painstakingly altered every single reference to the male lead, who was now a blonde French princess. Hermione was reminded of those books she had had as a child, where the names of the characters were customised to be her own and her friends'. From Harry she had received a book on non-verbal magic; she had mentioned to him that she was interested in studying the theory behind it, even though it was only usually Sixth and Seventh Years that even considered attempting the art. Ron had given her a cuddly toy house-elf, upon which Hermione couldn't form an opinion: cute, offensive, or just downright tactless. As well as a few smaller things from the other Fourth Year girls, she had received a customary Weasley jumper; which by pure chance was of a similar blue to the Beauxbatons uniforms, which had caused a great deal of mirth from Ginny.
Shortly afterwards, they headed down the Common Room. Hermione tucked the necklace into her collar, having already decided to show it openly at the Ball that evening. Ginny excused herself and left with some fellow Third Years, and shortly afterwards Ron and Harry appeared down the stairs from the boy's dormitories. After a quick conversation about their presents, they headed down to breakfast. As always, Hermione's eyes sought out a certain blonde at the Ravenclaw table. However, the Beauxbatons students hadn't arrived yet, and Hermione was forced to watch Ron wolfing down mince pies as though they were going out of fashion.
When the French students did finally arrive in the Great Hall, Fleur was even easier to spot than usual. Over her uniform, she wore a long cloak, similar in style to the Hogwarts ones. The difference being that it was the same pale blue as the clothing she wore beneath it, the fastenings were gold, and it featured a cape that reached the small of her back, matching the design of the silk robes the other students behind her were presently shivering in. Fleur herself didn't look remotely cold, and actually looked rather smug about it as she made her way down the Ravenclaw table. She caught Hermione's eye, and flashed a quick smile. In response, the brunette tapped the spot on her jumper beneath which lay the necklace, hoping that if anyone else saw it would just look like she was scratching an itch. Fleur's smile widened, before she looked back to her sister, who was walking at her side.
Too focussed on Fleur, Hermione hadn't noticed Ron sinking below his copy of the Daily Prophet, clearly remembering his last encounter with the part-Veela. That, coupled with the glares some of the freezing Beauxbatons students were giving Fleur's new cloak, caused Hermione no end of amusement. She suppressed a laugh and returned to her toast, feeling rather pleased with herself.
"Where do you think she got it?" Ron asked a few minutes later. Hermione, who was now reading the Prophet, glanced over it at him.
"What?" Harry asked, looking up from his own food. Ron nodded in the direction of the Ravenclaw table.
"That Gryffindor scarf Fleur Delacour's been wearing nearly all term," he said. "Wonder who gave it to her."
"Probably just someone who doesn't turn purple by being near her," Harry said with a smirk, taking another bite out of his bacon.
"Shut up, Harry," Ron replied sheepishly. "I'm serious." He leant forwards and looked down the table.
"Please tell me you're not counting scarves, Ron," Hermione said, still mostly hidden by the paper. Ron ignored her for a moment, before sitting back down.
"Well it's got to be someone here," the redhead said.
"Look," Hermione said flatly, finally putting the newspaper down. "Ron, how many scarves do you have?"
"Um…two," he said. Hermione turned to Harry.
"And you?"
"Three," the bespectacled boy said. "Why?"
"You're not going to be able to tell who it is by spotting someone not wearing a scarf," Hermione said. "I can see at least six Gryffindors who don't seem to have theirs with them." She quirked an eyebrow. "In fact, the three of us don't have ours either." She raised the Daily Prophet back up. "So why don't you just keep your nose out of peoples' private lives. Especially someone you don't even know."
"Put you in your place, mate," Harry said with a grin.
"You've changed your tune," Ron said, surprised. "I thought you hated the French lot. Wait…she signed up for those Spew meetings, didn't she?"
"If you must know, I…I haven't actually held any meetings," Hermione admitted. "It seems almost everyone is happy enough to live in blissful ignorance of the cruelty that's going on right under out feet." She looked over at the Ravenclaw table for a moment, when an idea came to her. "Besides, she probably only signed up on a dare or something," she said. "I very much doubt she has even given it another thought. She seems far too busy being the centre of attention."
At that moment, Ginny slid into a seat beside Hermione. "Morning everyone," she said. "Merry Christmas."
"Ginny, do you know anyone who's missing a scarf?" Ron said immediately. His sister frowned.
"Er…what?"
"Ronald is trying to find out who gave that Delacour girl their scarf," Hermione said, her eyes twinkling. "He seems incapable of grasping the fact that most people have more than one."
"Well, maybe you'll find out at the Ball, Ron," Ginny said with a knowing smile. "Unless not a single boy here met with her expectations."
"Wouldn't it be so fitting if she did end up going alone?" Hermione added. She knew her complaining about Fleur would only make her friends more annoyed when they did find out the truth, but she was having far too much fun. "A veritable ice-queen."
"Who is she going with?" Ron asked, looking around as if someone would be holding up a sign to identify themselves.
"That's all the Third Year girls have been talking about all morning," Ginny said, clearly forcing a complaining tone. "Who the Champions are going with; Cedric is going with Cho, and Harry is going with Parvati-"
"Blimey, I thought I was going with Parvati," said Ron. "Thanks, Ginny."
"….anyway," Ginny continued, shaking her head. "All they've been doing is gossiping about who the other two are taking." Harry cast an eye over Hermione; clearly remembering her excited admission that she had turned down Krum to the Ball. He looked downright confused.
"Could be going together," Ron suggested. "They're good enough for each other."
"Can't be," Harry said quietly. "McGonagall said Champions can't go together; tradition apparently."
"Why does it matter so much to you?" Hermione asked, rolling her eyes. "You don't know her, and she's completely insufferable!"
"But she's-"
"Don't tell me: absolutely beautiful," the brunette continued. "Yes Ron, we've heard you babble on about her plenty of times." She folded the paper up. "Well regardless, you'll find out tonight, won't you?"
"Alright, new question; who are you going with?"
Hermione just fumed.
~xxx~
After breakfast, they had headed back up to Gryffindor Tower, where most people were showing off their presents. Hermione sat apart from the others, idly twirling the pendant between her fingers, thinking of the person who had given it to her. After a sumptuous lunch, during which Hermione had admittedly eaten a little too much turkey in her attempt to stop herself from gawking at Fleur the whole time, they had headed out to the grounds for one of their traditional snowball fights, along with Fred and George. The brunette had decided to sit this one out, in favour of watching, and half reading her Veela book. This turned out to be a bad idea, as it meant that when the Beauxbatons students headed back down to the carriage, Hermione's friends were far too busy with their snowballs, giving Fleur ample opportunity to shoot Hermione a rather playful smile as she walked past. The bushy haired girl shivered, and she was sure it wasn't entirely down to the cold.
She watched Fleur as she walked, her new cloak billowing out behind her in the breeze. Hermione smiled, picturing Fleur twirling around the dance floor with her at the Ball. She wondered if the French girl's dress would be that same powder-blue. She shivered again, losing herself in the mental image of the two of them dancing the night away.
And then a horrible thought struck her.
Tearing her eyes away from Fleur's retreating form, she grabbed her bag and shoved the book she had been reading back into it, hurling the satchel over her shoulder. Harry looked up from the still-raging snowball fight. "Where are you going?" he asked, ignoring the white blur that whizzed past his head.
"Um…need to get ready for the Ball," she said quickly, heading back up the hill towards the stone circle. Ron stepped forward a bit.
"What, you need three hours?" he asked incredulously. Hermione didn't answer, but turned to see Ron hit in the head with a huge snowball thrown by George. He shook the remains from his hair, before calling after the brunette's retreating form. "Who are you going with?"
She just gave a half-hearted wave and continued on her way up the grounds. She reached the entrance to the covered bridge, and took off along the rickety walkway, mindful of the still icy wood. She emerged into the Clock Tower courtyard and continued at speed across it. A group of First Years were just ahead of her, turning to head up into the tower itself, but Hermione knew better. She continued across the chamber to the lone portrait of Damara Dodderidge.
"Bangers and mash," Hermione said quickly, steadying herself against the wall and hoping the password was still in use. The woman in the portrait just smiled dreamily.
"Mmmm….covered in nice thick gravy…" she said longingly, swinging open. Hermione rolled her eyes and stepped into the hidden passageway. After a short while, she emerged at the bottom of the Grand Staircase. Pulling her bag back up her shoulder, she continued up the many steps, jumping the trick-step completely as she went. Up and up she went, almost becoming dizzy as she continued turning right at the end of each individual set of stairs. At least she reached the Fat Lady, and practically yelled the password at her.
She dived through the portrait hole and into the Gryffindor Common Room. 'Please be here, please be here,' she begged silently, dashing across the room and startling a couple of Second Years. Panting now, Hermione made it up the spiral staircase to the dormitories, heading through the left hand door and into the familiar corridor that lead to her own dormitory. However, she didn't walk that far, and instead heading into the Third Years' room.
"Hermione?" Ginny looked up from her bed, where she had been checking something in a mirror. Hermione strode across to her and sat beside her, ignoring a blonde girl nearby who seemed to be threading some string through a collection of butterbeer bottletops.
"Ginny, I need you to teach me how to dance before eight o'clock."
~xxx~
Harry was trying his hardest to stay out of people's way as they waited for the doors to the Great Hall to open. Parvati had disappeared into the throng of students to find her sister, and Ron was standing at his side, looking very shifty in his frayed robes. It was only now that Harry truly appreciated the House colours; the sea of different hues was making it very difficult to spot people, not helped by the fact that a lot of girls had done things to their hair, making some of them completely unrecognisable. He glanced sideways at Ron.
"Leave it alone!" he hissed, swatting Ron's hand from his opposite sleeve in a very Hermione-like fashion. He was nervous enough as it was without Ron dismantling his robes beside him.
At that moment, Parvati and Padma appeared through the crowd. "Hi," Padma greeted. She looked just as good as her sister, but her face fell somewhat when she saw Ron's dishevelled attire. Despite his best efforts, there was still a lot of evidence of the recently-removed frills. "Don't you look…dashing."
"Hi," Ron replied, not even looking at Padma, who didn't seem best pleased. The twins stood beside their partners to avoid being sucked into the sea of people, but at that point Ron shrank behind Harry. "Oh no…" Harry frowned for a moment, before following Ron's eyes and seeing Fleur Delacour standing nearby, clearly waiting for her partner. Despite his odd behaviour, Ron's actions didn't seem to surprise the twins; even they had heard of his encounter with the part-Veela. Harry turned so he could at least talk to Ron while still shielding him from view. "Can you see Hermione yet?" Ron asked, looking up at his friend.
Harry looked over either shoulder, but shook his head. "Not yet." As they waited, the Patil twins became engrossed in conversation, waving to people they knew as they passed.
"Bet she's not coming," Ron said. "Poor kid; I bet she's alone in her room crying her eyes out."
"You think so?" the dark-haired boy asked, casting another look over his shoulder to spot their friend. Ron nodded.
"Come on, Harry," he said. "Why do you think she wouldn't tell us who she's coming with?"
"Because we'd take the mickey out of her if she did?" Harry suggested, but Ron just shook his head.
"Nobody asked her," the redhead said, sounding very sure of the fact. "Would've taken her myself if she weren't so bloody proud." Harry just nodded slowly. He'd spent some time while getting ready trying to think of who Hermione could be coming with, her excited behaviour after turning Krum down still baffling him.
"Champions over here, please!" Professor McGonagall's voice called. She hadn't spotted Harry already standing nearby, and moved over to him. "Oh, there you are, Potter. Are you and Miss Patil ready?"
"Ready, Professor?" Harry repeated, frowning again.
"To dance," McGonagall said. "I told you, Potter, it's traditional that the three Champions – well, in this case, four – are the first to dance. Surely I told you that."
"Oh…yeah…" the bespectacled boy had been so nervous about finding a partner that he'd completely forgotten that he and the other Champions would be opening the Ball.
"That's wonderful!" Parvati said, clapping her hands together and turning to her dance partner. Harry looked less than thrilled at the prospect. McGonagall nodded, and turned to Ron; pausing as she took in his clothes.
"Oh…" she reached forward and examined his collar, clearly baffled by his ancient robes; even her own clothing was far more fashionable. "As for you, Mr Weasley, you may proceed into the Great Hall with Miss Patil." At that moment, the doors opened with a heavy creak, and the students immediately began to enter the Great Hall.
"See you in a minute," Harry said as Ron lead a rather disgruntled looking Padma off along with the crowd. McGonagall spotted someone she clearly wished to speak to and disappeared amongst the other students again. The Entrance Hall began to clear, and Harry caught sight of Cho Chang. She was standing arm in arm with Cedric Diggory, who was greeting someone he knew. Harry couldn't help but stare, Parvati's presence beside him completely forgotten. Cho gave a small smile; it was almost apologetic. He was only vaguely aware of Professor McGonagall ushering the stragglers into the Hall, and Parvati's voice only half-reached him.
"She looks beautiful!" she exclaimed. Harry could only agree; Cho was very beautiful.
"Yeah, she does…" he said wistfully, but then he noticed that the girl beside him was facing the other way. He glanced at her, puzzled for a moment, before following her gaze and turning around.
There was Hermione, walking alone down the steps from the Grand Staircase. She looked absolutely stunning, her normally bushy hair tamed into a silky, elegant knot, a few curls hanging down on one side. She was wearing a layered, periwinkle-blue dress made from some sort of floaty material. It seemed to get darker as they went down, ending in a deep blue at her feet, and around her waist she wore what looked like a belt in the same dark blue. Unlike most of the other girls, she wasn't wearing any earrings, but she was wearing an expensive-looking gold pendant. She smiled nervously as she made her way towards them.
Harry couldn't believe this was the same Hermione; she looked absolutely gorgeous, and Parvati seemed to be staring rather enviously at her. As they continued to watch, a shoulder came into view in front of them. Harry blinked, and saw that it was Viktor Krum. Surely that was it then; Hermione was going with Krum, and had just been so excited that she had said the wrong thing to Harry.
"You look fery nice, Hermy-own-ninny," he said in his strong-accented voice. She smiled in response and thanked him, but then something occurred to Harry; there was already a girl arm-in-arm with Viktor. The Durmstrang student nodded politely, before turning and leading his partner to the door. Harry expected Hermione to greet him next, but instead she looked past him and Parvati, and her smile widened.
Still unable to look away from Hermione's transformed state, Harry watched as Fleur Delacour stepped into view, wearing a dress of silver-grey satin. Like Hermione, she wore her hair up, held in place by an intricately shaped object that Harry didn't even know the name of.
And then it hit him.
It happened almost in slow motion; Hermione took a nervous breath, and as she did so, Fleur reached up and took the other girl's hand in her own. "You are beautiful, mon amour," Fleur said, exuding nothing but complete adoration. Both girls stared into the other's eyes for a moment, before Fleur turned around. Harry was so stunned by what he was seeing, that the effect Fleur's face usually had on him was absent. He couldn't remember seeing Hermione smile as widely as she was at that moment, though Fleur's wasn't exactly small. Harry hadn't even noticed his mouth was hanging open, and didn't know whether it had happened when Hermione had first appeared, or when Fleur had taken her hand.
"Now, I need you all to line up in the procession, please," Professor McGonagall's voice finally broken Harry from his daze. He looked over and saw the teacher standing in front of the doors to the Hall, which had closed again. "Oh, Miss Granger, you are very late." She headed over to the stairs, and both girls turned to her. "Could we have you and Miss Delacour at the front?"
Fleur nodded, and lead Hermione off. The brunette gave Harry a small wave as she went past, still smiling widely. The two girls stood closest to the door, and Harry saw Fleur lean down and whisper something to Hermione. Willing his feet to move, he and Parvati headed over to join the others. "Did you know anything about this?" his partner asked in a whisper. Harry just shook his head silently, unable to take his eyes off the Beauxbatons Champion and his friend. Viktor and his partner stationed themselves behind Fleur and Hermione, and as Harry watched, Viktor tapped Fleur on the shoulder, and gave her a firm handshake. Cedric and Cho were next, and then Harry and Parvati at the back. As they waited to enter, Cedric turned to look at Harry.
"She kept that hidden pretty well!" he said, grinning nervously. "Did you know?"
"No," Harry choked out, shaking his head again. "No, none of us did." Cedric nodded, before turning back to face the doors. Moments later, the doors opened again, and somewhere a fanfare began playing. The thunderous applause from within the Hall brought Harry back to reality with a bang. Forcing his complete and utter shock to the side for a moment, he focussed on keeping his legs moving properly.
~xxx~
As they entered the Hall, a nervous energy filled Hermione's body. She kept her eyes fixed firmly ahead, not wanting to see the reactions from the other students. She and Fleur had linked arms, rather than one hanging on the other's, and the French witch strode towards the top table confidently, her head held up high and a smile upon her face. Amidst the applause, Hermione could have sworn she heard a few wolf-whistles. She felt absolutely amazing; all those eyes on her. There was no turning back, not now that the entire school could see them. As they neared the judges' table, Dumbledore smiled at them, and Hermione noticed his eyes lingering on Fleur and her for a few moments longer than the others. Karkaroff didn't look best pleased that his Champion was with a Beauxbatons girl, but then again he looked miserable most of the time anyway. Ludo Bagman on the other hand was grinning broadly, applauding enthusiastically as the Champions approached.
Oddly, Mr Crouch wasn't present; instead Percy Weasley was in his place, looking rather smug. When they reached the table, Madame Maxime gestured for Fleur to sit beside her. The part-Veela did as instructed and sat beside her headmistress. Hermione sat in the next seat, watching as the other Champions and their partners sat down. Harry seemed to have been pulled into a conversation with Percy, but Hermione didn't much care at that point. They had done it; they had come out to the entire school; everyone knew, and she was still smiling.
"So," Madame Maxime's thick accent began. "Zis is the girl 'oo 'as stolen my Champion's 'eart, hm?" Hermione looked up warily, but found that the incredibly tall woman was smiling at her. "Fleur has told me all about you, Mademoiselle Granger. If zere was ever someone 'oo could tame zis petit firework, I believe it is you."
"Thank you," Hermione replied with a smile. She was well aware that Harry, Cedric and Cho kept glancing in her direction, but she ignored them.
"You will 'ave to excuse my English," Maxime continued. "It is not as…refined…as Fleur's."
"It seems perfectly fine to me," Hermione said. "You would be surprised how many Hogwarts students have trouble with it." The three of them laughed, and Harry looked over again. Percy didn't seem to notice, still rambling about Mr Crouch. Hermione couldn't help but feel as though she was interacting with a parent; like a man meeting his girlfriend's father for the first time, trying to make a good impression. She hadn't expected it, but she was so thrilled that Fleur's headmistress approved of her.
They began to eat, and Hermione was still aware of Harry's eyes on her. She imagined a fair few students were looking in her direction, but pushed the thought from her mind. She continued to talk with Madame Maxime and Fleur, and they described the Christmas arrangements at Beauxbatons to her, which sounded rather beautiful. Hermione was even invited to visit the palace during the Summer, as it was being kept open to allow the visitors to Hogwarts to complete their exams. All the while, Harry kept looking as though he wanted to speak to Hermione, but as he was on the other side of the circular table, a private conversation was out of the question.
Before too much longer, the remains of their food vanished, along with the plates, cutlery, and everything else that had adorned the tables. Dumbledore rose to his feet, still smiling, and motioned for those around him to do the same. Like some great multicoloured wave, the students stood as those nearby did so. With a casual flick of his wand, Dumbledore moved the tables to the sides of the Hall. Some were stacked in the corners, and others were positioned with chairs around them, clearly intended to still be used. This left a large open space in the centre of the room, which the students vacated on instinct.
Madame Maxime gave a nod, and Fleur got to her feet, holding out her hand for Hermione. Following their lead, the other Champions got to their feet and filed, just as they had entered the room, onto the dance floor. Hermione saw Parvati wave at someone in the crowd of students, and assumed it was Padma. She made sure her eyes were averted; Ron was not someone she wanted to see at the moment. They positioned themselves in line with the other Champions, and awaited the music. Professor Flitwick tapped his conductor's baton against his lectern, readying the orchestra before him.
"Who's leading?" Hermione whispered. Fleur smiled.
"I shall lead first," she said. "And zen we can switch, if zat is alright?" Hermione nodded happily. She felt Fleur take her waist in a firm grip, and stared lovingly into her eyes. As the music began, Hermione took herself back to the brief lessons Ginny had given her not two hours ago. Luckily, she had picked it up very quickly, though she would never admit that being taught by another girl allowed her to imagine Fleur in Ginny's place. They twirled effortlessly across the room, gaining a fair amount of attention as they did so. Hermione felt as though she was flying; the momentum and Fleur's grip carrying her deftly on her way. Though she did have to restrain herself from letting out a squeak when Fleur lifted and twirled her in time with the music, she just laughed instead. The two of them continued to smile as others joined the dance, and after a while, Fleur let go of Hermione. She stepped back for a moment, giving a curt nod, still somehow in time with the orchestra, and then stepped forward again. Hermione understood, and took Fleur's waist. Despite the French witch being taller, she made it surprisingly easy for Hermione to lead her, seemingly anticipating her every move; and still they were smiling, gazing into each other's shining eyes.
After a while, the gentle music finally disappeared, replaced by the up-tempo beat of the Weird Sisters' 'Do the Hippogriff.' Hermione hadn't been expecting the waltz to segue so suddenly into something so upbeat, but allowed Fleur to pull her into the growing throng of students near the stage. It was incredible how Fleur managed to lead her in a dance that still looked elegant, and yet remained in time with such a fast song, and yet somehow she managed it. Then again, Hermione had perhaps not placed enough thought on the fact that her girlfriend was still part-Veela; it had to have an affect somewhere.
It took her by complete surprise really; shy, bookish Hermione Granger, surrounded by hundreds of students, dancing exuberantly with a girl whom she was going out with – it was not how she had pictured her Fourth Year to turn out, but she wouldn't have changed anything. She had never expressed any interest in this sort of music, but in that moment, she would have danced to a funeral march if it meant being able to have fun with Fleur in public. It felt so good; so right; to be doing something with her girlfriend in front of all these people. Whatever reactions there would be from people later on, right now they didn't seem to care. She and Fleur were just two more people in the pulsating crowd; now almost the entire student body, moving like a single huge creature, moving along with the pounding beat.
"Good on 'yer, Hermione!" she heard either Fred or George shout at one point, but didn't even have a chance to respond before Fleur had effortlessly twirled her around again. She wondered just how badly her cheeks were going to hurt later; she hadn't stopped smiling since the music had begun. As the song came to a close, Fleur nodded towards the tables surrounding the dance floor, and pulled Hermione through the crowd of students who were busy applauding and cheering.
~xxx~
Harry, on the other hand, had left the dance floor before the Weird Sisters had even started playing, much to Parvati's chagrin. He had lead her over to the table where Ron and Padma were sat, having never even got up for the first dance. Pulling a bottle of butterbeer towards him, Harry sat down. "How's it going?" he asked. Ron, however, remained silent. He was looking rather pale, his eyes directed at the dance floor. Harry followed his gaze and saw a familiar blonde head bobbing up and down in the crowd.
"Have you seen Hermione and Fleur? They look so good together!" Parvati said, gushing. "They're both so gorgeous."
"I wouldn't know," Padma replied irritably. "I haven't got close enough to see." Ron didn't seem to take the hint; he just kept staring, his expression worryingly blank. Harry took a swig from his drink, and looked off into the crowd as well. He could see Cho and Cedric dancing near to where Fleur and Hermione were.
"I think we know where Fleur got that scarf from now," Harry found himself saying. Ron just continued to stare, his eyes narrowing into a partial glare. They sat like that for a few minutes, staring into the crowd of dancing students, the Patil twins becoming more and more fed up.
"May I have your arm?" a voice asked. They looked up to see a Durmstrang student; one of Karkaroff's aides, lean down and take Parvati's hand in his own.
"Arm?" she repeated. "Leg? I'm yours." She allowed herself to be lead away, and Padma seemed even more aggravated, shooting Ron a dirty look and sighing.
At this point, Hermione appeared and flopped into Parvati's recently vacated chair, a large grin still on her face. "Hi," Harry croaked nervously, glancing sideways at her.
"Hot, isn't it?" she said, clearly out of breath. Ron gave her a withering look.
"What the bloody hell are you playing at?" he said angrily. Hermione shrank back, surprised by his outburst. She had been expecting something like this, but it still caught her off guard.
"Ron, look-" But she was cut off.
"Fleur Delacour, Hermione!" he snapped. "You're going out with Fleur Delacour!"
"Well for a start, I never said we were going out," she replied, fighting to keep her voice calm. "Harry came with Parvati and something tells me they're not going out."
"But that's different!" Ron continued. "If a boy and a girl go together, it can be just as friends. If I couldn't find anyone else to go with, I wouldn't have come with Harry."
"Well," Hermione began, nostrils flaring. "If you must know, yes, we are going out." Ron nodded triumphantly. "What's the problem?"
"What's the problem?" Ron repeated. "I'll tell you what the bloody problem is – she's a girl! Why didn't you tell us about this?"
"I had no reason to," Hermione replied. "I don't have to tell you everything about my private life."
"Yes you do!" he snapped back. "And in case you hadn't noticed, she's a Beauxbatons! She's competing against Harry! Against Hogwarts! You're fraternising with the enemy, you are!"
Hermione just sat there, utterly dumbstruck. She opened her mouth to speak, but no sound came out. "You…" she began, her voice quaking. "How dare you? The enemy?" She got to her feet, her hands balled into fists. "Who was the one fawning over her all the time? Who called her the most beautiful girl in the world? Who was the one who asked her to the Ball?"
"I s'pose she asked you to come with her at those spew meetings?" Ron asked bitterly, completely ignoring Hermione's words.
"No she didn't," the brunette snapped. "I told you, we didn't have any meetings."
"You also told us you found her insufferable," Harry added, not quite meeting her eyes. He had been silent since the start of the argument, but Hermione couldn't really expect him to accept it without question.
"Look, alright, I did say some things that weren't necessarily true," she admitted, her voice losing a little of it's edge. "But what could I say? No matter how or when you found out, you'd react like this…"
"Probably just spying for Maxime," Ron continued, missing the earnest tone of Hermione's last statement. "Probably just using you to get closer to Harry – get inside information on him – or get near enough to jinx him!"
"Spying…?" Hermione repeated. "Trying to get close to Harry?" She shook her head in disbelief. "Do you really want to know the truth?"
"Enlighten us," Ron said coldly, but Hermione's expression at that made him lean back slightly.
"I met Fleur two years ago, on my holiday in France," she said. "Not that I'd imagine you even remember me telling you I'd been there. When I met her it was purely by chance; she's not trying to get anything out of me!"
"Bet she is," Ron muttered, but the brunette's glare silenced him before he could continue.
"Do you want to know how much she's asked about Harry?" she asked incredulously, her voice cracking. "All she wanted to know is whether I thought he put his name in the Goblet or not, because she trusts me. That's all!"
"Clearly more than you trust us," Ron said sharply. "You've betrayed us!"
"Betrayed you? The whole Tournament's supposed to be about getting to know foreign wizards and making friends with them!" Hermione snapped. "The whole point of it is international magical co-operation!"
"No it isn't!" the redhead replied. "It's about winning!"
By this point, a few people were watching the exchange with morbid interest. Among the closest were Ginny and Neville. "Go find Fleur," the youngest Weasley hissed. "Quick!" Neville nodded, unsure for a moment, before heading into the crowd of students still on the dance floor. Harry spoke up again.
"Ron, look," he started. "Maybe we should just talk about this later. I don't have a problem with Hermione going out with Fleur." He looked up at Hermione. "It may take some getting used to, but I can't imagine you'd do something like this unless you were sure."
Hermione gave him a thankful look, but Ron just ignored Harry as well; ironic considering his next statement; "Remember what Harry said? She's part-Veela! She's probably just seducing you to get to Harry! That's why you're with a girl!"
"Oh for the love of…" Hermione rolled her eyes, her anger rising again. "Veela charms don't work on girls, you idiot! If there's any reason I'm with a girl, it's because boys can be as stupid, moronic and pig-headed as you!" She took a step forwards, looking down at Ron dangerously. "Fleur is kind, compassionate, and more understanding that you could ever hope to be." She took a step back, watching Ron with a mixture of anger and sorrow, before turning to leave.
"They get scary when they get older," Ron muttered to Harry, but clearly not quietly enough.
"Ron, you spoiled everything!" Hermione cried, letting out a sob, spinning around, revealing that tears were falling down her cheeks. With that, she turned on her heel, and stormed off towards the doors. Ron looked rather shaken.
Harry just shook his head. "Well done, mate," he muttered.
"Are you going to ask me to dance at all?" Padma asked. Clearly Ron had forgotten she was there, as he jumped when she spoke.
"No," he said in an off-handed tone, still watching Hermione's retreating form. Padma shook her head in disbelief.
"Fine," she grumbled, getting to her feet and heading off across the dance floor. The crowd that had gathered around them dissipated, and everyone headed back to dance or to their tables. However, a red-robed figure approached from behind Ron.
"Vot did you say to Herm-own-ninny?" Krum said harshly, glaring at the back of Ron's head. The redhead jumped, startled at being addressed by his idol.
"Oh, um…nothing…" he replied lamely, looking up at Krum, who was looking rather imposing standing above him.
"Ummm….Ron?" Harry's attention was focussed on someone else, who was approaching rather quickly. Harry nudged his friend, but he went ignored again. "Ron, I really think-" But it was too late.
"You!" Fleur screeched, stalking towards Ron. Her demeanour was more that of a boxer ready for a fight than that of elegance. "Vous le petit garçon pathétique!" She stopped in front of him, her eyes blazing. "What did you say to 'er?" Ron let out a gargled squeak, cowering at the sight of the enraged girl. However, Krum shook his head.
"Fleur, Herm-own-ninny vould not vant this," he said.
"Come on, Fleur, just leave it," Ginny added, having followed her back to the table. Ron was so terrified, that he didn't even acknowledge the fact that Ginny seemed familiar with the French witch. The blonde girl took a deep breath, and seemed to relax slightly. She closed her eyes for a moment, apparently attempting to calm herself. Ron at least seemed to take it as such.
Which meant that when Fleur punched him square in the face, he never saw it coming.
~xxx~
Hermione jumped when she felt a pair of arms around her waist, but a familiar scent quickly surrounded her, and she relaxed. Fleur rested her head upon the brunette's shoulder, and looked up at the stars.
"Do not let one person ruin such a wonderful night," the blonde said quietly. Hermione let out a sob.
"But…but Ron ruined everything…" she said shakily. "It was such a wonderful night…"
"It still is, 'Ermione," Fleur whispered, placing a gentle kiss upon Hermione's neck. "You look magnifique, and I cannot recall ze last time I 'ad so much fun…"
"I could say the same to you," the brunette replied, forcing a smile and leaning into Fleur's touch. "I didn't think you could get any more beautiful…"
"Merci," the French witch purred. "Now zen, shall we find some place warmer? It is raz'er cold out 'ere."
"Oh, yes," Hermione replied apologetically. "Sorry, I should have waited in the Entrance Hall for you." But then her face crumpled, and she let out another sob. "Oh Fleur, you're missing the Ball because of me!"
"I don't care," Fleur said simply, maintaining her smile. "Ze only place I want to be is where you are."
"Well…" Hermione said, her cheeks colouring a little. "We could go back to the Common Room. The Ball doesn't finish for another couple of hours…"
"I zink I would like zat very much," the blonde replied, her blue eyes twinkling.
They ended up spending the rest of the evening sat in front of the fireplace, resting in each other's arms; and admittedly, a great deal of their time was spent kissing. When the nearby clock chimed midnight, they pulled apart. By this point, Hermione's hair had broken free from the control of Sleekeazy's Hair Potion somewhat, and was starting to look rather messy again; though that could have had something to do with Fleur running her hands through it. They looked at each other for a moment, neither wishing to part.
"I…I should probably go," Fleur said solemnly. Hermione nodded, but then an idea struck her. She looked away for a moment, her cheeks reddening again.
"Um…out of interest…" she began quietly. "Would you like to stay the night?"
"Mon dieu! 'Ermione, are you asking me to bed?" Fleur asked silkily, leaning closer again. Hermione's face became redder, and she became very interested in her hands.
"You know I didn't mean it like that…" she murmured. "It's just…I don't want you to go yet…"
"As long as I get to wear some of your bedcloz'es," the blonde replied with a grin. Hermione blanched.
"You are so weird…"
