Chapter Twenty-Five
Le Reveillon

The day following Christmas finds me shivering- of course- and staying under the covers of my bed, reading and nibbling on the chocolates my parents sent for me. The other girls are clustered together, giggling and enthralling each other with stories of the Yule Ball, leaving the dormitory in pairs and groups. I pay them little attention though. Instead, I remain in bed, feeling sluggish and content- despite the cold- savoring my sweets and smiling to myself whenever I think of Cedric. And I can't help it. I'm floating on some kind of cloud. Before Christmas, everything felt wrong- strained and difficult- but ever since last night I've felt light and happy, and I can't stop smiling.

I'm in love with him.

There's no doubt in my mind. I know he still has feelings for Cho- though, what those feelings are, I can't be sure- but I don't even care anymore. Life isn't black and white, and love isn't concrete and easy. This triangle that we're a part of will work itself out and everything will be right. I know it will.

It will.

When afternoon rolls around, the dormitory is empty. My stomach is growling from a digested breakfast of chocolate, and my body is getting restless and cramped from laying in bed all day.

I take a warm bath and dress quickly, before heading downstairs for le petit dejeuner.

On the staircase leading down to the Great Hall, I bump into Viktor.

"'ow was ze Ball pour toi?" I ask, as we fall in step beside one another.

Viktor smiles, saying, "Very good. And you?"

"Good," I can't even bite back the grin that pulls up my lips.

"You and the Hogvarts boy got on?" he asks, looking surprised.

I shake my head, "Non. Mais je- zeengs wiz Cedric are as zey were."

"You mean- he is no longer being vith that girl?"

My heart hitches in my chest, but I ignore it, saying, "Non, mais- c'est- eet eez compleecated."

"Oh, I think I am understanding," he replies amiably, but I don't think he really does understand. I don't press him though.

We go to our separate tables when we enter the Great Hall, and I join a few of the girls who want to chatter with me about the ball. I listen to them go on about their dates and the drama they endured, and field off questions about Roger and how my night went. I'm vague and blasse, and they manage to fill up the conversation with enthusiastic recollections and excited commentary. In fact, they're so deep in their own words, that they don't notice when Cedric walks behind them and tilts his head subtly- as if indicating for me to follow him. The girls don't notice when I give him one nod in return.

Once he has left the hall, and there is a faint break in the conversation, I say that I'm going to go write a letter home, and that I'll see them later.

Cedric is waiting outside of the Great Hall, standing and glancing absently out of one of the windows there. When he hears my footsteps, he turns and looks at me smiling.

For the briefest of moments, I wonder if he wants to tell me that he's ended things with Cho, but when I look at him properly, I see that there's no hurt in his eyes, and I know that that can't be what he wants me here for.

"Walk with me?"

I nod and follow him out of the castle and onto the grounds.

When we're far enough from the castle, he takes my hand in his and subltly pulls me closer to him as we walk.

"I didn't get a chance to tell you something last night," he says.

He and Cho aren't together anymore?

I look at him with innocent eyes and reply with, "Oh?"

"The egg."

What is he talking about?

I knit my eyebrows and look away from him, trying to figure out what he means.

"The clue from the first task," he clarifies.

"Oh!" It seems obvious now. "You 'ave figured it out?"

He shrugs, "I got it to stop shrieking."

"Deed you?"

For some reason, I don't feel relief or excitement over this news.

"Fleur, you tipped me off when it came to the dragons," he says, stopping and facing me.

I shake my head, "I only asked you to read to me."

He smiles that crooked smile of his and strokes my cheek with his free hand, "I want to help you with this task."

My heart thumps in my chest and I turn this idea over in my brain. Do I allow Cedric to tell me the secret to figuring out the egg? Do I work with him to figure out what it means, if he hasn't already figured it out completely? Something in me wants to feel that relief- that easiness of just knowing already- of not having to figure it out and do the work. But another part of me is disgusted by the thought of not doing this on my own- stuck fast to the idea of telling him to keep his discoveries to himself. Madame told me about the dragons before I could prevent it- and maybe that was okay after all. They were dragons after all. But I want to go through with the second task without help from anyone else. I entered the Tournament to prove myself, and I can't do that if everyone's giving me the answers for everything.

"Zat eez.... nice of you," I say carefully. "Mais- I would like to try to compre'end eet on my own."

He looks surprised, but smiles and gently tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, asking, "Are you sure?"

I nod.

"Man," he says. "You're good."

I smile a little, saying, "Non. Only determeened," and I hope that's the right word for it in English.

"Are you going to give me a run for my money, then?" he asks.

I knit my eyebrows together, "Pourquoi would I make you run for ton argent?"

He shakes his head with a grin and says, "Never mind."

"You are so strange," I say, my eyebrows still furrowed.

"And you are so French," he says, kissing me lightly.

When he pulls away I smirk at him and say, "Merci bien."

I enjoy my Christmas holiday thoroughly.

When I'm not spending time with Cedric in abandoned classrooms or under heaps of blankets at the top of Astronomy Tower, I'm sleeping late and ignoring my homework. It feels good to be lazy and to be unable to care less about things. It's rejuvenating and wonderful and it makes me feel as if I can take on my lessons and the language barrier and everything that comes with them at the beginning of term. My only complaint is that I wish the holiday was longer. And I wish that the second task wasn't on the other side of it.

If there was anything preventing me from enjoying my break to the fullest, it's the stress of the second task. I know I could have just taken whatever information Cedric wanted to give me, but then I know I would feel lowly about it afterwords. So I try to push the egg and the task out of my head all together, promising myself that I'll think about it all as soon as the holiday is over. A hollow promise, yes, but the least I can do to keep myself sane.

For now though, I distract myself with staying up late, sleeping in, and thinking about tonight's New Year's celebration.

In France, Mama and Papa have friends and family over for a feast and dancing for le Reveillon. There's beautiful music, wonderful food, amusing games and entertainment, and tons and tons of champagne. It's one of my favorite holidays of the year. But at Hogwarts, they have a slightly special dinner, and then they all hang around their common rooms, with music and contraband alcohol, waiting for midnight to come around.

A few of the other girls- Lucille, Amandine, Charlotte, Georgette, and Therese- get invited to the Hufflepuff common room for a party, and I know Cedric's in Hufflepuff, so I tag along.

When we arrive, I find that other houses are here too, and, to my disgust, I see Cho Chang sitting with a few Hufflepuff girls. Thankfully, Cedric is nowhere in her general proximity.

"Come on, Fleur," Therese says, and she drags me into the dancing bodies, toward the Hufflepuff boys who invited her and the other girls here.

We all make awkward conversation- the girls giggling and cooing, and the boys trying to be tough and funny. The language barrier is evident, and trying to understand what's going on between the volley of horribly accented and incomprehensible English makes me want to scoff and turn away.

One of the guys- I think his name is Martin- looks over Lucille's shoulder and says, "Oi! Ced! We're hanging out with one of your opponents over here!" and he waggles his eyebrows suggestively.

Turning around, I see Cedric coming over. He smiles and says hello to me, then to the rest of the girls, when he joins the group, and after a moment of talking and exchanging jokes, everyone turns their attention away from us- the interacting champions- and continues to talk and flirt in misshapen English.

"Are you having a good time?" Cedric asks me, his voice low enough so that no one else can hear us under the blare of the wireless radio nearby.

I shrug.

"Do you want me to get you a drink?" he asks. "We have firewhiskey, Wendla wine, some pretty bad mead, and some spiked pumpkin juice."

I wrinkle my nose, but say, "Wendla wine, s'il te plait."

He nods, and says, "Be right back."

I move away from the group discreetly and stand against the wall nearby, watching everyone enjoying themselves in the warm, cozy common room, while the wind whistles outside.

"Where have you been hiding yourself?"

The words are in French, and they're right by my ear. Just from the way he smells- like poorly made mead and pine- and the way he's invading my personal space, I know who it is.

Turning and give Jean-Pierre a death-like glare, I step back and say, "Shouldn't you be tending to Madame's horses?"

He smirks, "Shouldn't you stop trying to seduce the opponent?" He tilts his head and asks, "Do you think sleeping with him will win you the tournament, ma petite-"

"Don't you dare," I say through a clenched jaw. "I'm not ta petite- I'm not your anything. Why are you even here?"

He shrugs, saying, "I've made friends with some of the Hogwarts students."

"You're pathetic," I say, rolling my eyes.

Taking a piece of my hair in his fingers, he says, "You're a tease-"

I push away from him and spit, "And you're disgusting!" and I turn, pushing my way through bodies, to the fireplace. I take a seat before the crackling flames, and stare into them, feeling agitated and restless all of a sudden. And when I feel a hand on my shoulder, I jump.

Some of the wine in the cup Cedric's holding, sloshes to the floor and he steps back, asking, "Are you all right?"

"I am fine."

"Are you sure? You seem kind of jumpy."

I shake my head and take the cup from him, saying, "Bien," and I take a long, greedy swig of wine.

Some time after Cedric leaves me to spend time with Cho, I switch from wine to Firewhiskey, and because Jean-Pierre keeps leering at me from wherever he is in the room, I don't stop drinking all night. The world gets fuzzy and warm first, and I feel a sluggish contentment fall over me. Who cares if Cedric is across the room, talking and laughing with Cho and her friends? Who cares if Laure's boyfriend- who once tried to rape me- is stalking around the party, staring at me? What does it matter? What does anything matter? I feel so careless and silly that I sit by myself, drinking, staring at the fire and smiling in my cloud of drunkenness.

But by the time midnight rolls around, and everyone is cheering around me, kissing one another and shrieking and hugging, I'm bleary eyed and I can't stand straight.

Amongst the commotion, Cedric finds me and kisses my cheek, wishing me a happy new year, but I just sway on my feet and slur some incoherent French at him.

"Fleur? Are you okay?" he asks.

"Shouldn't you be with your petite amie?" I ask him, but my words are mashed together and they're in French, and from the look on his face, I can tell he doesn't understand what I'm saying.

He shakes his head, "I don't understand you."

I slip on the hem of my jeans and nearly topple backwords, but he grabs my hands and rights me.

"Are you drunk?"

I pull away from him indignantly and say, "I'm fine," but again, it's in French- my mouth doesn't seem to know how to form English words right now.

"You're drunk," he says defeatedly, looking around. "Come on, let me help you to your tower."

I sway dangerously and stumble into him, falling into his chest, saying, "Non-non!"

"Fleur-"

"I can go myself," I insist.

He ignores me and holds my arm, steering me around the room, until he finds Lucille and Amandine, saying goodbye to everyone, sober and tired-looking.

"Hello," he says to them. "Fleur here seems a little unable to make it to the Beauxbatons tower herself."

As I step away from Cedric and stumble forward, both of the girls take hold of one arm and look at me incredulously.

"We will 'elp her back," Amandine says to him.

He nods, "Thank you- Merci," and he gives me one more stern look before walking away.

As they help me out of the common room, Lucille snickers and says, "Fleur, you're going to have on hell of a headache tomorrow."

Gabrielle returns to Hogwarts on New Year's Day, and when I meet her in the entrance hall- as Lucille predicted- I have a splitting headache. We walk back upstairs, both of us holding a valise, and she asks me what's the matter. I feel foolish and embarassed, and I just shake my head, telling her I have a headache and that's all. On the way up, she prattles on about Mama and Papa and home, and tells me that they had a wonderful Christmas Eve party, and that Grandmamie got so drunk off of Papa's old apple mead, that she put a spell on Grandpapa so that he was sneezing grape juice for hours. I try to laugh at this but- urgh, alcohol.

I'm a fool.

"How was the Yule Ball?" she asks.

I brighten up at this and try to ignore my headache as I tell her, "Good."

"What was it like? What was Roger like?" she question. "Did you have fun?"

I fill her in on the all the details she wants- leaving out some significant parts about Cedric and Roger- and tell her that, although it was wonderful and great, she didn't miss out on too much.

This seems to satisfy her, and before I can stop her, she's going on and on about Aunt Jasmine and Uncle Desmond's Christmas dance with the dogs that was just so funny. And my head wants to split open.

I try to smile and nod, when I really want to bury my face in a pillow and disappear.