A/N: Anything in italics is in French. This chapter starts right as the last one ends.

Fleur settled Hermione back on the ground, still grinning widely at each other.

"Fleur! 'Ermione! Get back to the Carriage, get warmed up, and we'll get the party ready!" A Beauxbaton student called from the crowd, to the cheers of other students. "We need to go add the scores to the board anyway!"

"Anything for a party, you French lot," Hermione teased, tugging on one of Fleur's braids.

"Zink about w'at eet will be w'en I win, mon amour," Fleur teased back, pressing kisses down Hermione's jaw. The Champions eyes fell on the delicate silver chain, hidden below the collar. "You still wear it?"

Hermione gave her a smile, lifting the chain out of her robes. "I never take it off. You seem very certain you will win, my Champion."

"I will win," Fleur replied strongly, placing another lingering kiss on Hermione.

By this point, most of the delegation had left, Alexander swinging Gabrielle over his back as they went, much to the younger girls delight. Claire, however, had stayed, and cleared her throat pointedly. "As cute as you two are, 'Ermione, you need to go speak to your family. I think they're all arguing with your Headmaster again."

Hermione flushed slightly, but turned around all the same. Professor Dumbledore was sitting in his chair, unflinching. Ros had both her hands on the table in front of him, Maribel right next to her. Karkaroff stood off to the side of Ros, but seemed angry all the same. Madame Maxime was on Maribel's side, gesturing widely. Ludo Bagman was standing next to Dumbledore, smiling slightly, and it seemed like he was trying to get a word in around the other Judges. Percy Weasley stood at the end of the table, hands clasped awkwardly behind his back.

"They must have put a silencing charm around them," Fleur mused, nodding towards the other students still lingering to watch the adults.

Suddenly, Dumbledore stood, holding a hand up wearily. He motioned towards the castle, and the rest nodded stiffly. Ros and Maribel immediately turned, rushing over to where Hermione was standing. Fleur let go of the Gryffindor's waist as the pair came closer, allowing for Ros and Maribel to pull Hermione into their arms. Maribel gave Hermione a smile as she pulled back, adjusting the blue hat still on her head.

"I'm sorry 'Mione," Ros mumbled, holding Hermione by the shoulders still. "Albus didn't see fit to tell anybody who the hostages were. Or even that it would be students."

"It's alright Ros," Hermione said softly, forcing a smile onto her face. "No harm no foul, right?"

Claire gave a pointed cough behind them. Ros and Maribel both narrowed their eyes slightly. "What's wrong?" Maribel asked carefully.

Hermione threw an annoyed look over her shoulder, Claire looking at the sky aimlessly. "Nothing bad -"

"'Ermione," Claire warned lightly, still studying the clear sky.

The Gryffindor flushed, but Ros held Hermione's gaze, a finger holding her chin in place. "What happened, Hermione?" Ros asked slowly.

Hermione deflated under the gaze, scuffing her foot along the ground. "They didn't tell us either," she mumbled.

"I'm sorry," Maribel said, sounding not very sorry at all. "They didn't tell you what, exactly?"

"Last night," Hermione sighed, still mumbling. "Ron and I got sent to Professor McGonagall's office, but when we got there, someone else hit us with a spell. When I woke up, Fleur was holding me in the water."

Maribel swore loudly in French, a snarl breaking free of her throat. "That man, I'm going to kill him!" Hermione's eyes widened, taking a small step back, watching as Maribel's eyes flickered to a dazzling gold, her nails extending and sharpening slightly.

Ros placed a hand on Maribel's arm softly, using her other arm to pull Hermione in for another hug. "We'll kill him," Ros corrected her wife, forcing her voice to be calm. "The least he could've done would've been telling you. I bet he didn't tell Karkaroff's student either, the girl was furious coming out of the bloody water. I'll get the Board involved, do everything I can, that bloody fuc-"

"I don't know if it was Professor Dumbledore," Hermione admitted quickly, her head resting on Ros's shoulder. "It wasn't Professor McGonagall, she didn't have her wand out."

Ros sighed, placing a kiss on Hermione's forehead. "It doesn't matter. Not only is it cowardly and pathetic," she spat out the last word, "but you never signed to be part of the Tournament. Fleur and the Champions, yes, but you never agreed to any part beyond watching. I respect the man, sure, but he's losing his bloody marbles if this was his idea."

Hermione gnawed at her bottom lip, focussing intently on the floor. She shrugged her shoulders listlessly, feeling like a small child. Maribel was alternating threats in both French and English. At one point she said something in a different language completely, that caused Fleur to gasp sharply. She could feel Claire's stare on her back, waiting for the other issue to be aired out.

"There's something else," Hermione said softly, cutting across Maribel's threats. Both older witches held their breath. Maribel moved closer, using one hand to cup Hermione's face and pull it up, facing them.

"What else?" Ros asked carefully, both witches putting a lid quickly on their tempers.

"I had a run in with Rita Skeeter," Hermione said quickly, as if ripping off a plaster. "In the Three Broomsticks, a few weeks ago."

"How bad?" Maribel prompted, her voice measured. Hermione shrugged silently.

"'Ermione called 'er a 'orrible woman," Claire answered when Hermione hesitated. "Zat reporter zen implied zomezing was 'appening between Fleur, 'Ermione, and 'Arry Potter. Eet was not very pretty, but ze w'ole pub was watc'ing."

"She hasn't done anything," Hermione quickly added. "It was at the last Hogsmeade weekend, and if she was going to do anything surely she would've done it already, right?"

"Reporters can hold a grudge, and I've seen Skeeter wait a year before pouncing," Ros sighed, stroking at Hermione's face. "She is a horrible woman, but I'm not sure if I agree with your lack of subtlety," Ros laughed forcibly, giving Hermione a wink.

"In 'Ermione's defence," Fleur cut in, softly pressing a hand to her lower back. "'Arry got 'er attention first, by zhouting 'alfway across ze room. 'E truly lacks any tact, not my 'Ermione."

Maribel and Ros both laughed at that, before Ros suddenly turned a lot more serious. "'Mione, I'll get the Prophet on side. Stop anything being dragged out."

Hermione shook her head, "you don't need to. I don't - I mean," she sighed. "I don't care what she writes about me in her little articles, this is why I didn't want to tell you, I feel like I'm using you -"

"I'm going to stop you right there," Ros cut across sharply. "You're not using me, at all, alright? You're part of my family, and I'm not going to let that stupid woman do anything to you. I'd do the same for any of you, you're all my children, and I'd be a crap mum if I let anything happen."

"We'd both be crap mums," Maribel corrected softly. "You're our daughter, and this is part of the package, we protect you. I just wish you told us sooner, ma chérie."

"I told 'er to zink like a pureblood," Claire muttered behind them.

"Also," Ros said playfully. "The Ravenclaw name has a lot of sway, still, hence why I didn't have to take Beaufort!"

Maribel laughed, her eyes finally settling on blue with a hint of gold. She whacked Ros on the arm weakly. "I think we've kept the girls long enough," Maribel said, her eyes flitting to where Claire and Fleur still stood, albeit awkwardly. "I'm sure Beauxbatons will celebrate in style. Fleur, have one on me, okay?"

Fleur nodded, a grin breaking across her face. "Merci auntie."

"I take it 'Mione's going with you?" Ros asked the pair, knocking Hermione's Beauxbaton hat sideways. At their nods, Ros grinned. "If I have to hear Olympe say one more thing about signing Hermione's transfer, we'll all be having words, got it?"

Claire gave the older witch a dramatic bow, Fleur rolling her eyes. "But Madame Ravenclaw," Claire said teasingly. "Eet ees not our fault if Beauxbatons ees a better choice, non?"

Ros sighed, waving her hand. "Fine, fine, Hermione you're not allowed to transfer, okay?" When the three students laughed, both adults smiled at each other. "Right, we've got to go have a small chat with Albus, and then I'll head over to the Prophet, get Barnabas Cuffe to deal with any of Skeeter's articles."

Hermione nodded, a little teary-eyed. She had never wanted to use Ros, and despite their assurances, it still very much felt like that. "Thank you," she whispered.

"There's nothing to thank us for," Maribel said softly, stroking the hair out of her face. "We love you."

"I love you both too," Hermione mumbled.

"Go on then," Ros prompted, knocking Maribel's hand as she went to straighten Hermione's hat. "We'll go deal with Albus and Skeeter. I'll never hear the end of it if I make Beauxbatons wait any longer for their party."

All three students nodded, Fleur quickly pulling Hermione back into her side. With one last farewell, they made their way to the Carriage, Hermione tucked in between the two older girls.

As soon as the trio had entered the Carriage, Fleur and Hermione were rushed upstairs. They were told, in no uncertain terms, to have a bath and then come back down. Someone had shouted that they weren't to play around, to which Fleur flipped her finger as they went up the stairs.

Once in Fleur's room, Hermione realised a slight problem. "Uh, Fleur?"

"Oui?"

"Oh," Hermione sighed, perching on the bed. "This is going to sound right silly, but I don't have any clothes here."

Fleur, half peeling off her cloak, paused, blinking owlishly at Hermione. After a beat, Fleur burst out laughing, Hermione quickly following suit. "I don't even know why I'm laughing," Fleur managed to get out, in between peals of laughter.

"I told you it was silly," Hermione choked out, finally regaining control.

"'Ere," Fleur gasped, taking deep breaths. "You can wear mine, I zink I 'ave zomezing... Got eet!"

Fleur threw a pair of joggers over, followed by her Quidditch jersey. Hermione ran her fingers over the DELACOUR on the back, underneath which was 05. "You can baz first," Fleur continued, motioning to the bathroom. "You were in ze Lake longer zan me."

Hermione nodded, quickly heading into the ensuite. A short while later, she emerged, her school robes flung over her shoulder. The Gryffindor bit her lip at the sight in front of her. Fleur was sitting at her desk, writing idly on a piece of parchment. Her silver swimming costume was thrown in a corner, and instead she had draped a silk dressing gown on, loosely tied around her waist.

"I started running the bath for you," Hermione said shyly, her face flushing. Fleur looked up, smirking at Hermione dressed in her clothes.

"You look adorable, mon amour," Fleur said, eyes raking over the younger girl. "Zank you for running eet."

Hermione nodded, watching as Fleur stretched her arms over her head, causing the robe to open a little more. She bit at her lip, as Fleur's smirk grew further. "See something you like?" Fleur teased, clearing the parchment and recapping her ink.

Hermione's eyes snapped up to Fleurs, drawn into the dark blue gaze. Her throat was suddenly very dry, and Hermione watched as Fleur's eyes followed the path of her tongue, wetting dry lips. "Maybe," Hermione managed to draw out, very quietly.

Fleur hummed, almost stalking closer. One hand gripped the Quidditch jersey, the other tangled itself in still wet hair. Time seemed to stop as their lips met each other hungrily, Hermione's heart pounding in her chest. The necklace around her neck just seemed to continue to grow warmer, as they pulled each other even closer.

Hermione let one of her hands grip at the back of Fleur's neck, drawing the taller girl impossibly closer. Her other hand was more uncertain, skating lightly over Fleur's back. They both pulled back briefly, gulping in air, before they joined together again. Fleur's hand moved, reaching to place Hermione's hand firmly just above her belt, before moving back to the jersey.

They spun around slowly, Fleur guiding Hermione backwards. They broke apart again, breathing deeply, when Hermione knocked into the desk, falling onto it unceremoniously. Fleur took the opportunity to suck and nip lightly at the skin over Hermione's pulse point. It was only when Hermione let a low moan fall from her throat did Fleur pull away.

There was a beat, a pause, where both girls looked at each other. Studying the flushed faces, and heaving chests. Fleur's eyes were black, the tiniest hint of blue remaining.

Fleur screwed her eyes closed, her hands shaking slightly against Hermione. In return, the younger girl stayed still, letting Fleur regain some control. When Fleur opened her eyes again, they were a dark blue, and she let out a slow exhale.

"I zink," Fleur said quietly, "eet ees best if I go for a baz now, mon amour."

Hermione nodded, her throat parched again. She watched Fleur walk stiffly towards the bathroom. As the older girl went to close the door, Hermione called out, in her sweetest voice. "Fleur? You forgot to lend me any underwear."

Fleur's breathing hitched, eyes flicking down briefly. When their eyes met again, Fleur's were back to black. Barely audible, Fleur growled, before shutting the door the rest of the way.

Hermione gripped the edge of the desk once the door closed. Trying to get her breathing back under control. She ran a shaky hand through her hair, wincing when it caught on a knot.

Sighing, the younger girl picked up a hairbrush, working through the knots robotically. Once that was finished, Hermione located her wand and holster from the pile of robes dropped in the middle of the floor. Flicking her wand, she folded the robes and settled them on the chair, before slipping it back into her holster. The holster then went to the bedside cabinet, on what was always Hermione's side.

Finally, Fleur emerged from the bathroom, a towel wrapped around her head. She was dressed in a pair of tight black leggings, and a T-Shirt. Hermione couldn't help the giggle that escaped, Fleur raising an eyebrow at her.

"I don't think I've ever seen you in something so muggle," Hermione replied, a wide smile in place.

"A lot of ze ztudents wear muggle clozes," Fleur shrugged. "Eet ees more comfortable zan wearing robes all ze time."

"I think you look amazing," Hermione said, feeling more emboldened from their earlier encounter.

Fleur's eyes zeroed in on the side of Hermione's neck, a smirk fixed. "I zink you look adorable. Also, I might've left a small mark on your neck."

Hermione's eyes widened, rushing past a now laughing Fleur, to look in the bathroom mirror. Frowning, she turned her head to glimpse at the blossoming bruise over her pulse point.

"I can get rid of eet, if zat ees w'at you want," Fleur offered, leaning against the doorway. "But I zink eet makes up for your forgotten underwear, oui?"

"Leave it," Hermione whispered shyly, tugging at the collar of the jersey. "I don't mind it."

Fleur's grin grew further, moving to hold the younger girl from behind. Hermione tucked her head into Fleur's neck, and they looked at each other through the mirror happily. Fleur delicately pulled the necklace out of the jersey, letting it rest on top of the material.

Eventually, Fleur sighed, pressing a kiss to the top of Hermione's head. "I zink we zould go down, mon amour, ozerwize zey will come up 'ere."

"They're not drinking already, are they?" Hermione asked nervously. "It's not even lunch, is it?"

"Mon amour, we are French. Zey are drinking already," Fleur smirked. "But I want you to eat first, you 'ave not 'ad breakfast, after all. Madame Maxime would 'ave arranged a buffet."

Hermione nodded, letting Fleur pull her close for a final kiss, before they made their way out of the room. As soon as they stood on the top step, music blared. Clearly, a silencing charm had been placed on the upper level. Cheers started as the two descended the stairs, music hastily turned off. The cheers continued as the two were ushered onto a table in the middle of the main room, all the students in comfortable muggle clothing.

As two wine glasses were pushed into their hands. Alexander jumped on a chair, in front of a chalkboard, Gabrielle clapping on his shoulders.

"Finally!" He cheered, "our Champion and her Hostage grace us with their presence! May we please give a cheer to our Beauxbaton Champion, the one and only, Fleur Delacour!"

The students cheered again, raising their glasses. Hermione blushed slightly, Fleur wrapping an arm around her waist. At that moment, however, the Carriage door opened, Madame Maxime stepping in gracefully. She stared around the silent room, seemingly very weary, before sighing and summoning a glass of wine with a wave of her fingers.

Alexander, to his credit, did not skip a beat, and continued. "Fleur Delacour scored a lovely forty eight points, and saved her damsel in distress, 'Ermione with time to spare! Fleur, any words for your beloved supporters?"

Fleur rolled her eyes, but raised her wine glass all the same. "Thank you all for your support, the Cup is in our sights now!"

The students cheered again, all drinking from their glasses. Hermione playfully tapped Fleur's glass with her own, before they both sipped. Even Gabrielle sipped from her glass, on Alexander's shoulders, although Hermione noted it was only orange juice.

"Ah yes," Alexander continued, grinning wildly at the delegation. "The Third Task. Next week I'll put up the rota of when everyone will be Fleur's target practise!" The delegation booed at that, but he waved it away. "No arguments, I'm tired of her throwing me on my arse, you all can help. But for now, our dear Madame Maxime, any of your wise words for your humble students?"

Maxime gave a throaty laugh, eyeing her delegation with pride shining. "Miss Delacour, I'm sure I speak for everyone when I say we could not have wished for a better performance today. For once, in your seven years under my care, I can write home to your mother with pride, rather than another story of what trouble you've wrecked in our halls!" Hermione looked sideways at Fleur, who flushed slightly. "To Fleur Delacour!"

"To Fleur!" The students cheered back, toasting their glasses once again.

"Thank you, Madame Maxime," Alexander called, drawing the attention back to him. "Now is the moment we've all been waiting for, the points!" With a wave of his wand, the chalkboard behind him showed all four champions names, with their points from the First Task next to it. "Let's start with the home Champions. Cedric Diggory scored forty five points today, taking his total to eight three, give him a cheer, folks!"

A small cheer quickly rose and died down. "'Arry Potter's forty four points today takes him to eighty four, another cheer folks, he's only young!" Another cheer, rising and falling just as fast. "The Durmstrang Seeker turned Champion, Viktor Krum, gained himself a round forty points, taking his total up to eighty, a good showing!" Another cheer again, dying faster than the previous two. Even Fleur seemed nervous, gripping tightly to Hermione's waist.

"Finally," Alexander said slowly, building his momentum. "Our very own Fleur Delacour. Last, but definitely not least, gained an incredible, amazing, fantastic forty eight points! When we add that to her total, we get a fantastic - drum roll please!"

Alexander paused, wincing slightly as Gabrielle repeatedly hit his head in her drum roll. Even Madame Maxime joined in, albeit rolling her eyes at the same time. "Fleur Delacour, you have a total of eighty… seven points!"

Fleur relaxed against Hermione at that, who was cheering along with the Beauxbaton students at the scores. Finally, Alexander gained some control back over the crowd. "Let's change this board up, right! Coming in last, Krum! Diggory rolls in third, Potter just ahead in second. That leaves Fleur in first place by a mile!"

More cheers erupted, a few even singing the school song. "Now, let's party the afternoon away, and before you say anything Madame, yes we know not to leave the Carriage! Fleur, you must be so hungry, but please avoid eating 'Ermione's neck any further!"

Hermione's face blushed brightly, giving an awkward laugh as she buried herself in Fleur's side. Both girls were finally allowed off the table, immediately drawn into the crowd of students. The music came back on full blast, the students enjoying their afternoon of freedom and celebrating their win.