A/N: Sorry for the slow updates these days! I haven't forgotten about other fics (on FFN), but I've been mega busy with irl stuff! Reviewers calling me out on creating drama, hehe, you got me. I love some contrived drama and angst. Anyway, hope you like this update xx Zero
The cold hit Hermione like a sack of bricks to the gut. Dazed and breathless, Hermione took a moment to open her eyes under the water.
Freezing. Absolutely, bloody freezing.
Hermione's jaw locked as she willed her protesting body to adjust. Just push through.
Hermione didn't have to get too far in the lake before she found Fleur. Whatever warming spell she had used had appeared to have worn off, judging by her appearance.
Fleur had pale, creamy skin ordinarily. But its pallor now was concerning. She looked drained of blood, floating in the water like a beautiful ghost.
Hermione felt a jolt of panic through her system.
Hermione didn't have time to think, grabbing Fleur roughly around the torso and beginning to propel herself as hard as she could towards the surface.
'Come on, come on… She can't go out like this… This isn't the way that someone as lively as Fleur is meant to go…' Hermione tried to still the panicked thoughts whipping around her mind. She focussed on kicking as hard as she could in the cold water.
Hermione gasped as they broke the surface of the lake, not pausing in her frantic kicks as she pulled Fleur to the shore. The blonde was still alarmingly unresponsive, her skin cold against Hermione.
Hermione was getting a stitch in her side as she made it to the shore. She ignored it, clumsily pulling herself and Fleur out of the water.
She pulled Fleur onto her back in the grass, instantly kneeling beside her. She tried to rack her brain for spells that could help.
No.
All she knew for these situations was the CPR she had learned during her Muggle schooling. Better than nothing.
Hermione thumped Fleur's chest desperately before beginning to administer two-handed presses. She hoped like hell the cold of Fleur's body was from the water, and not an indication of lack of life.
Hermione counted the rhythmic pushes before pausing. She didn't have time to consider the awkwardness of this part— any faltering could cost Fleur her life.
Hermione cocked Fleur's chin up, allowing her airway maximum room to breathe. Even with blueing lips and wet hair, Fleur looked beautiful. It sent an ache through Hermione's heart as she dropped her lips to Fleur's.
This wasn't how she pictured kissing Fleur.
Hermione, pushing breath into Fleur, squeezed her eyes shut. She hoped this wouldn't be the last chance anyone would have to kiss Fleur.
Hermione couldn't ignore how cold Fleur's lips were to the touch. It unsettled her.
She returned to her presses to Fleur's chest. One. Two. Three. Four. Hermione diligently kept to the pace she had learned at school.
Hermione's own heart rate spiked exponentially with each cycle of chest-presses and breaths she administered. This couldn't be it. Couldn't…
Thankfully, finally, on Hermione's fourth set of urgent presses to Fleur's chest, the blonde came alive again with a flail and cough. She was choking. Hermione turned Fleur on her side as the blonde gagged and coughed up the murky water of the Black Lake.
"Fleur!" Hermione gasped, "Thank God!"
A wave of sweet relief was rushing through her, draining her of the adrenaline that had been keeping her going. As Fleur struggled to sit up, Hermione fell into her, wrapping her arms around the blonde.
"Wh-wh-what 'appened?" Fleur asked from between chattering teeth. Hermione summoned the last of her energy to pull her nearby woollen cloak around the two of them. She held Fleur tightly, trying to transfer as much of her own body heat to the blonde as possible.
"I don't know, you didn't come back," Hermione said, trying to hide the sheer emotion from her voice, "I came in after you and found you passed out in the water."
"O-O-Oh," Fleur replied, shivering into Hermione's body. She was clinging to Hermione's body like she was the last life-preserver in a storm, "I… I struggle with freezing conditions… Coldness overwhelms me easily."
Hermione bit back the 'I know' on the tip of her tongue. Now definitely wasn't the time to bring up the book on Veela. Instead, she hummed her acknowledgement, instead focussing on rubbing her hands over Fleur, trying to warm her up faster. Her palms rubbed firm circles over Fleur's shoulder's under the cloak, then her ribs, then her back. Fleur's skin was still very cold and had broken out in goosebumps. The blonde was shivering, quite helpless and pathetic in Hermione's arms.
"If you know coldness overwhelms you so easily, why did you throw yourself in there like that?" Hermione asked, unable to bite the question back, "Why put your life on the line? You knew there was a good chance your warming spells would wear off… You knew there was a good chance that if you succumbed to the cold, whatever charm you used to protect yourself from drowning could fail too."
Fleur didn't reply, still shivering violently. She buried her face into Hermione's neck as Hermione rubbed her lower back.
Hermione could feel the coldness of Fleur's lips and nose brushing her neck. She already had goosebumps herself from the cold, but the sensation of Fleur's face nestled into her neck was just causing her to feel even more tingly. Her hands drifted a little lower on Fleur's back until she felt the top of Fleur's bikini bottoms, causing her to blush deeply and come to her senses.
"Magic!" Hermione blurted out, wrenching herself away from the blonde.
"Quoi?" Fleur, wrapping Hermione's cloak around herself more tightly, looked confused.
Hermione stumbled awkwardly in her rush to get up and remove herself from the blonde's body. She tripped, grazing her knee, before half crawling to grab her wand.
"I-I should be using magic," Hermione half-explained. She turned back to Fleur, casting a warming spell carefully over the blonde. She followed it with a drying spell before turning to herself.
"Stupid, stupid, stupid…" Hermione muttered to herself under her breath. She turned away from Fleur to hide her blushing face. People called her the Brightest Witch of her Age. What would they say if they could see how dense she was being now?
Hermione felt like slapping her hand to her forehead. In all her rush to save Fleur and the distraction of soothing the blonde in her arms, basic concepts such as magic had flown out of her mind. She had even forgotten her own state of partial undress. Hermione blushed deeper, rapidly grabbing her uniform from the grass nearby.
Hermione could swear she felt Fleur's eyes on her body and it made her feel even more self conscious. She wasn't as slight as Fleur. She wasn't as gorgeous as Fleur. She had smatters of freckles on her shoulders and face.
She pulled her shirt and skirt on quickly, followed by socks and shoes. She hadn't buttoned a shirt so quickly in her life, only turning around once she had begun to tie her tie back up.
Hermione ignored the teasing feeling of disappointment as she saw that Fleur was also clothed again. She looked a lot better than when she had first come out of the lake, but still seemed cold. She shivered in her thin silk uniform, fumbling as she fastened her top buttons.
Hermione tied her tie deftly, pulling it into a loose knot. She frowned at how much Fleur was struggling with her buttons. Her hands must be too cold for her fingers to work properly.
Without thinking, Hermione's bossy side took over. She stepped forward and into Fleur's personal space, using both hands to pull Fleur's hands away from the final button of her uniform shirt.
"Let me," Hermione instructed. She slipped the shiny button through the hole in the silk, covering the dip where Fleur's collarbones met.
Fleur's uniform didn't have a tie, but did have a loose strip of silk on each side of her neck, that the Beauxbatons girls tied into neat pussybows. Hermione took a strip of silk in each hand, slowly tying the fabric into a bow.
As she finished, she became aware that Fleur hadn't seemed to have breathed in a while. Hermione's warm brown eyes flicked up, alert. They instantly connected with bright blue.
"Are you okay?" Hermione asked, concerned.
Fleur let out a shaky sigh, colour returning to her face.
"Oui," Fleur replied unsteadily, "Just… Thank you."
Hermione took a step back, watching Fleur curiously. There was something a little off about the French girl. She still seemed a little out of breath and now had a strange redness to her cheeks.
"Are you sure you're okay?" Hermione asked, she cast another warming spell over her companion, worried she was still not feeling well.
"Oui," Fleur said, averting her bright blue eyes, "I… I hate that the cold affects me so easily."
"Well," Hermione hummed sympathetically, "This could help."
She had spotted the scarlet and gold scarf she had leant Fleur, lying on the grass beside Fleur's wand. She picked them both up and handed them to the blonde.
"Ah, merci" Fleur said delicately, still not quite looking at Hermione. She wrapped the scarf around her neck and pocketed her wand.
Hermione picked up her slightly damp robes from the ground, casting another drying spell before pulling them over her uniform. She cast a sidelong look at Fleur, who, though warmer, was still shivering.
"Maybe we should take you to Madam Pomfrey just to get checked over," Hermione suggested.
"Non!" Fleur snapped immediately, before her features softened again.
Hermione shrugged, unsure what to say to that. She picked up her satchel and began to walk back towards the castle. To her inner pleasure, Fleur followed alongside her.
She loved talking to Fleur. Trying to get her to lower her guard. But, honestly, she got a funny kind of thrill just from being in the proximity of the blonde— even if they weren't talking. It was a feeling she was growing to be addicted to. A giddy flutter deep in her stomach.
Fleur, silent now, moved closer to her, looping an arm through Hermione's. She leaned against the brunette as they walked.
'It's a Veela thing… She has a natural instinct to draw close to others for warmth,' Hermione told herself, trying not to stumble or choke on her own saliva. She didn't want to look stupid in front of the blonde. Being overwhelmed at mere physical closeness would definitely make her look stupid.
Fleur seemed to take Hermione's silence for deep thought or offense, as she cleared her throat.
"I didn't mean to snap at you," Fleur said apologetically, "The cold thing… It is a Veela thing. She would not be able to help."
"Oh," Hermione replied lamely. She kept quiet, hoping to encourage Fleur to open up a little more.
They walked through some tall bushes together, nearing the castle. Fleur's grip on Hermione's arm was tight, like she found Hermione comforting. Hermione liked the notion of that.
"I… I'm scared," Fleur admitted, "You couldn't dream up a task that is less suited to a Veela if you tried. Freezing water? Taking someone close to a Veela? I was so confident about the First Task and thought I did quite well. But this task? It is almost as if someone has devised a task designed to make a part-Veela fail."
"I'm sure it seems worse than it is," Hermione attempted to allay the blonde's fears.
She was feeling a little guilty that despite Fleur opening up to her about her fears, Hermione's heart wouldn't stop thumping heavily at the blonde having her arm looped through her own.
Fleur shook her head vigorously.
"It is almost textbook! What do Veela hate? Water and cold," Fleur growled, "It feels so unfair! Not only do I have to face the same challenges as the other competitors, but I have to fight my very nature!"
Hermione, not knowing what to say, squeezed Fleur's arm sympathetically. It seemed to work, ending Fleur's tirade. The blonde relaxed against Hermione a little.
"If anyone can find a way to work around an extra challenge, it's you," Hermione said encouragingly.
They were nearing the front of the castle now, close to the steps of the Entrance Hall.
"Thank you," Fleur said, "And thank you for, ah, saving me. As embarrassing as that is."
"Don't be embarrassed," Hermione insisted, as Fleur withdrew her arm and stepped away from the brunette.
Fleur stood, shuffling in her heels, seemingly restless. Yet she didn't make a move to leave.
"Your pronunciation is getting so good," Hermione commented, hoping to get the blonde to cheer up a little. It seemed to work, as Fleur's features softened enough to offer a slight smile.
"I have a good teacher," Fleur said warmly, causing a flurry of butterflies to erupt in Hermione's stomach, "Thanks again."
Fleur, without any warning to Hermione, leant in closely. Hermione froze, suppressing an undignified 'eep' from escaping her mouth. The blonde's full lips, definitely warm now, pressed softly against Hermione's cheek.
Hermione felt a terrific pang shoot through her, despite it being such a chaste act. As giddiness kicked in, Hermione couldn't stop the large goofy smile that overtook her features.
Fleur pulled away again, smiling softly as she pulled the Gryffindor scarf tighter around her neck.
"Erm—" Hermione was at a loss for words, mortified as she felt her cheeks heat up.
"I will see you at our next lesson," Fleur said, a slight smirk in her features.
Hermione suppressed an eye roll. Fleur's ego was back all right. It was quite cute though.
Hermione rubbed her eye with the heel of her hand. She was in her final class of the day. The terrible grade from Moody had left a foul taste in her mouth, but it had been eased by her interaction with Fleur.
Her mind kept replaying Fleur's arm looped through hers. Her semi-nude body clinging to her own as she fought to regain her breath and warmth.
Hermione's face warmed again and she dropped her eyes to the parchment in front of her.
Charms was usually a class she was very engaged in.
Should she have insisted that Fleur see Madam Pomfrey just in case? It didn't seem very responsible not to tell a staff member about a student almost drowning on the grounds over lunchtime.
Hermione tapped the tip of her quill against the parchment as she thought.
She could always check in with Fleur later. To see if she was okay. Yes, purely to see if she was feeling okay. It was the only responsible option, after all.
"You okay?" Harry asked, nudging her with an elbow.
Professor Flitwick had just asked them to pair off to practice a charm that, when cast correctly, would conjure a type of alarm after a set period of time. Hermione almost rolled her eyes at it. It seemed a hell of a convoluted way to set an alarm instead of just buying a watch or alarm clock. Sometimes it truly baffled her which elements of culture and technology wizarding kind chose to adopt, and which they did not. She would never understand the acceptance of lighters and stovetops but rejection of electricity and alarm clocks.
"I'm okay," Hermione replied, "I just think I have finally found a Charms lesson I really don't care for."
"I don't think I've ever seen you less engaged in classes than I have this year," Harry commented, his green eyes flicking over from the blackboard to look at his friend again, "Are you upset about that rubbish mark Moody gave you? Ron's already written a letter to his mum about how off it was for Moody to say such a thing."
Hermione's expression darkened as she recalled Defence Against the Dark Arts. She was seriously starting to think there was something not right about Moody… But she could turn her attention to that later.
"No," Hermione replied, cautiously looking around the classroom. Most of their classmates were very distracted. Seamus Finnegan, who had paired up with Ron, had somehow got his wand to emit the shrill alarm at five second intervals and couldn't work out how to get it to stop.
Hermione, in low tones, took the opportunity to tell Harry about Fleur almost drowning at the lake. Harry listened attentively, his eyes wide.
"So, she cast a warming spell, I know that one," Harry finally said, "But what did she use to breathe underwater? Did you see her do something for that?"
"I'm not sure, Harry, it all happened very fast. She might not have even cast one if she was only planning on doing a short dive," Hermione replied.
Harry sighed, sinking his head onto his desk and cradling it in his arms.
"That doesn't help me," Harry groaned.
Hermione frowned.
"Harry Potter, I'm telling you that I almost witnessed someone drown and that they could be roaming around the castle with hypothermia and you have the gall to whine about me not jotting down the details of the spell she might have used?!" Hermione snapped.
Harry peeked up from his arms sheepishly, his unruly jet black hair and guilty bespectacled eyes all that Hermione could see.
"Sorry, 'Mione," Harry mumbled, "It's just… I think you might be watching another person drown in the lake if I don't figure out what to do…"
"Well you'll definitely be needing to practice your warming charms," Hermione replied, shuddering at the memory, "It was painfully freezing in there. As reckless as it was, Fleur probably had the right idea about doing a couple of practice dives so you can get used to it."
"I have seen Krum hanging out by the lake a lot," Harry said suspiciously, raising his head up from his arms, "So warming charms… Right. What about the oxygen problem? D'ya think Fleur might be willing to-"
"Absolutely not, Harry!" Hermione replied shrilly, relieved that Seamus' wand was still providing a fantastic cover for their conversation, "She's barely forgiven me for the research thing… I'm not about to bowl on in and use her friendship all over again."
"Fine, fine," Harry said, raising his hands defensively, "I suppose I do still have quite a bit of time left to figure it all out…"
Hermione, unconvinced, did not comment. Harry had a terrible habit of convincing himself he had more time than he did in order to work things out— homework included.
Hermione felt like a bit of a fool, pacing around outside of the library. The truth was, she couldn't quite commit to studying when she was worried about Fleur.
She hadn't seen Fleur since the incident at lunch. The blonde hadn't shown for dinner and Hermione hadn't seen her around the hallways— which she usually did. She hadn't even seen a hint of fawning students around the building, apart from Viktor Krum's lovestruck fans.
Hermione had a horrible feeling that perhaps something was wrong. Or if it wasn't, maybe Fleur was actively avoiding her? Was she embarrassed about doing something so reckless?
"'Ermione,"
Hermione turned around, spotting entirely the wrong Delacour she was looking for. Gabrielle, an impish smile on her face, was just leaving the library with a stack of books under her arm and bulging out of her backpack.
"Hi, Gabrielle, how are you?" Hermione greeted politely, "This seems a little late for you to be out at the library… and on your own?"
"Fleur was supposed to take me but she isn't feeling well," Gabrielle pouted, "She's all bundled up in bed and won't do a single thing with me."
Hermione suppressed a smile at the sulkiness of the small child, instead focussing on the news about Fleur.
"She isn't well? Has she seen Madam Pomfrey?" Hermione asked, concerned.
Gabrielle shook her head, her pretty blonde hair fanning wildly.
"It is not always appropriate for 'uman 'ealers to attend to part-Veela," Gabrielle said cryptically, before changing the subject, "Besides, she is just feeling cold. She will get over it."
Hermione wondered if a severe exposure to cold had a long-lasting effect on a Veela. She couldn't remember reading that in the textbook, but then it would be naive to assume every fact on the creatures was contained in there. She considered pressing Gabrielle for answers before deciding against it. She had done enough prying into Veela to make Fleur uncomfortable already.
"Well, shall we bring her a hot chocolate or a tea?" Hermione suggested instead, trying to turn her mind to small ways she could help.
Gabrielle nodded enthusiastically.
"But ze Great 'All is closed," Gabrielle said slyly, "Does zat mean we will 'ave to go to ze 'idden 'Ogwarts kitchens? I 'ave been trying to figure out where zey are, but zere is no mention of zem in eizer of ze books on 'Ogwarts."
Hermione smiled, gesturing for Gabrielle to follow her.
"Well, it just so happens that two boys even more mischievous than you told me how to get there," Hermione teased, enjoying the excited wiggle this induced in the small girl at her side.
Despite being waylaid by some friendly Hufflepuffs that stopped to comment on the sheer volume of books that Gabrielle was carrying, the two girls made it to the kitchens in good time. Hermione encouraged Gabrielle to put down her backpack and books, before hoisting her up so she could have the honour of tickling the pear image on the wall that would reveal the kitchen.
Hermione couldn't help but smile widely as Gabrielle excitedly jumped up and down as the Hogwarts kitchens revealed themselves.
"Hush, you will spook the house elves," Hermione teased, causing Gabrielle to stop and stare at her in wide-eyed wonderment.
"Hogwarts has house elves?" Gabrielle gasped, "Isn't that… Using creatures?"
"Don't get me started," Hermione frowned, "I still have a bone to pick with Dumbledore about it when I get the chance."
"No picking of boneses required, Miss Grangey," Dobby the house elf announced as he appeared in front of them. He was dressed in what appeared to be a lumpy red tea cosy, bright purple fluffy socks and a bonnet. He bowed deeply in front of the two girls.
"Oh, hello Dobby," Hermione greeted, "This is Gabrielle Delacour."
"Pleased to meet your acquaintance, Miss Deli-corr" Dobby greeted, bowing deeply again, "I couldn't help but overhear Miss Deli-corr. I want to assure you that Dobby is a free elf. Harry Potter freed Dobby. Now Dobby is his own elf."
Dobby puffed his chest out proudly.
Hermione could see a few other house elves further in the kitchen shooting Dobby looks of disbelief. It seemed they were still getting used to Dobby's way of life.
"Zat is amazing!" Gabrielle replied, stepping forward and shaking Dobby's hand enthusiastically.
"Thank you Miss Deli-corr," Dobby replied proudly, before turning his large eyes to Hermione, "Now, can I do anything to help the Misses Grangey and Deli-corr?"
"Oh, erm, we were after a thermos of hot chocolate," Hermione told Dobby, "But we can make it ourselves if you point us to the ingredients. We wouldn't want to put you out."
"It does not put Dobby out!" Dobby informed Hermione cheerfully, "Dobby loves preparing food and drink!"
With a small crack, Dobby disappeared and reappeared deeper in the kitchen, setting to work heating up a small pot of milk on a stovetop immediately.
Hermione turned to Gabrielle, smiling and shaking her head.
"He's an eccentric one," Hermione informed the small blonde, "But a very decent elf. He's looked out for Harry in the past."
"I like Dobby," Gabrielle informed Hermione with a large grin.
In no time at all, Hermione was presented with a small thermos of hot chocolate, courtesy of Dobby. Helping Gabrielle with her mountain of books, Hermione then led the small blonde out of the castle and to the Beauxbatons carriage.
Hermione checked her watch worriedly as Gabrielle took her to her room to deposit the books. She still had a little time before curfew. She was a little annoyed that she didn't have Harry's Invisibility Cloak at hand or she would be free to stay as long as she wanted.
"Shall I take you to Fleur's room?" Gabrielle offered, "I should warn you, she gets moody when she doesn't feel well."
"I can deal with that," Hermione said with a faint smile, following the small Veela out of her own bedroom and further down the halls.
Gabrielle's room had been small, a bookshelf, a desk and a single bed. Various books, toys, drawings and papers littered the room. When they reached Fleur's room, even her door looked far more elegant.
It was painted white and had a complicated handle that was made of twisted strands of gold.
"Ze Champion gets ze best accommodation," Gabrielle explained, "As a reward for being chosen by ze goblet."
"I see," Hermione said vaguely. It certainly seemed a lot fancier than the other doors she had seen during her brief trip into the carriage to bring the drunk Julie home, "Will I get in trouble for being here?"
As if on cue, a door opened further down the hallway. A Ravenclaw boy backed out of a room, hastily re-tying his tie. Hermione could hear feminine giggling.
Gabrielle rolled her eyes.
"If you did, you wouldn't be ze only one," Gabrielle informed her. She stepped forward, rapping in a strangely specific rhythm on the door. "So ze door knows it is me," Gabrielle explained.
There was a pause before a light clunking inside the door sounded. The door was unlocking itself in response to Gabrielle's knock. Hermione was fascinated.
"Gabrielle?"
Fleur's voice rang out from inside the room. Gabrielle opened the door before shoving Hermione lightly.
"Are you not coming?" Hermione asked, bewildered.
"I've 'ad enough of 'er mood for one day," Gabrielle shrugged, "Besides, I 'ave some good books to read in my room."
Hermione swallowed, nodding.
She turned back to the room. It seemed dimly lit inside, dark but for some candles. Biting her lip and summoning her Gryffindor courage, Hermione stepped inside, closing the door behind her.
If Hermione thought the door was elegant, she was not prepared for the room. Fleur's bedroom was a large room with polished hardwood floors, a lavish fireplace and a large double bed. There was a desk by some windows, as well as a large dresser with a small seat in front of it. The top of the dresser was littered in expensive looking beauty products. There was an expensive looking rug on the floor in front of the fireplace.
The fire was blazing, casting shadows around the room.
"You are not Gabrielle," Fleur stated.
Hermione focussed her attention on the bed. Fleur was propped up against a number of plump pillows and cushions, a book in her hands. She appeared paler than usual, but otherwise fine. A number of candles on her bedside table further illuminated her delicate features.
Fleur was dressed in a deep sapphire long sleeved silk pyjama shirt. Hermione wondered idly if they were Beauxbatons-issue. Her voluminous covers were pulled up to her waist. Hermione wondered how she could stand it with the heat from the fire as well.
"Gabrielle said you were not feeling well," Hermione explained, "I came to bring you something to help."
"Unless it is a time-turner to stop me being so stupid at the lake, I'm not interested," Fleur sniffed, turning her head away from Hermione.
"What's wrong with you?" Hermione asked boldly, walking over to the bed.
"I'm cold," Fleur replied, gritting her teeth, "I can't seem to shake the feeling."
"Is this… Er, normal?" Hermione asked, coming up to the edge of the bed.
Fleur cast a wary side-long glance at Hermione.
"Sometimes," Fleur replied cryptically, "For Veela who have got too cold, it takes a while to shake the sensation. I will be fine again soon enough."
"Oh, well," Hermione replied awkwardly, "This might help a little… At least for a moment."
Hermione brandished the silver thermos forward, offering it to Fleur.
Fleur was always quite inquisitive, but her sapphire eyes seemed even more curious as she looked at the thermos.
"What is it?" Fleur asked suspiciously.
"Hot chocolate," Hermione said, still holding it out.
Fleur stared at it, still eying it curiously.
"For Pete's sake!" Hermione sighed. Without even thinking, she swung herself onto the bed, sitting on top of the covers beside Fleur. She unscrewed the lid of the thermos and took a swig herself, "See? Standard hot chocolate. It will warm you up a bit."
Fleur was still looking at her, a little confused now.
"Why, though?" Fleur asked.
Hermione rolled her eyes.
"Because I care about you and don't want you to feel rubbish," Hermione snorted, pushing the thermos into Fleur's hands, "Now drink up."
Fleur, finally giving up her reluctance, drank from the thermos. She let out a noise of pleasure, startling Hermione and sending a pang to the bottom of her stomach.
"It's good," Fleur commented, taking a break between gulps, "Very good."
"Th-they made it in the kitchens at Hogwarts," Hermione commented. She inwardly cursed her slight stutter. She loathed that pretty girls made her appear like an idiot, "Feeling warmer?"
Fleur made short work of the rest of the thermos, drinking it down at an alarming rate. Hermione wondered if she had eaten at all— she'd been at the lake during lunch and hadn't been at the Hall for dinner.
Fleur placed the now-empty thermos on her bedside table. She shook her head. Her white-blonde hair was loose and shimmered in the dim light as she moved her head.
"A little, but I still feel chilled to the bone," Fleur replied. She sounded so unhappy, so vulnerable. "I wish I hadn't been so stupid. I didn't think it would be quite that bad."
She shut her eyes tightly as a shiver ran through her. She looked so small and delicate, her impossibly long eyelashes trembling as she scrunched her eyes in discomfort.
"Er, is there anything that I can do to help?" Hermione asked. She wanted to reach out and comfort Fleur. But the blonde didn't trust easily and she didn't want to cross a line with her.
"Cuddle me?" Fleur asked.
Hermione could have fallen off the bed in shock. She looked at Fleur as if she had misheard her. Surely she had misheard her.
"Er… What was that?" Hermione asked. Her head felt like it was spinning.
Fleur was looking away now, blushing a little.
"Just for warmth," Fleur said quickly, "It is so unbearable being this cold."
"Oh, er, well, okay," Hermione said distantly. She felt like her voice sounded strange and faraway.
Swallowing heavily, Hermione kicked off her shoes and took off her robe and jumper before climbing under the covers.
She froze, unsure that she had the nerve to cuddle Fleur Delacour. As if she could sense Hermione's nervousness, Fleur slid over in the bed, wrapping herself around Hermione tightly.
Hermione was lost in a headrush of silk and skin, feeling dangerously like butterflies were about to burst forth from her stomach.
It felt so good to have Fleur wrapped around her. As Fleur rested her head on Hermione's chest, Hermione wondered if everyone clicked together so well when they cuddled.
Hermione worried whether Fleur could hear how hard her heart was pounding, before getting distracted by the sweet lily-vanilla fragrance of Fleur's hair.
It was so warm in Fleur's room. Hermione was so deliciously comfortable. Hermione was vaguely aware of her fingers running through silky hair as she tried in earnest to control her damned hormones.
Fleur's breathing had slowed and her eyes were shut, making Hermione rather suspect the French girl had fallen asleep. It felt a little wrong for Hermione to allow herself to be turned on by a girl cuddling her in her sleep.
Hermione stared at the ceiling of the room, willing her heart to be still and stop pounding.
The room was so incredibly warm.
The fire and candles caused shadows to dance across the ceiling above Hermione and Fleur.
Hermione watched the shadows dance as her eyes got heavier and heavier.
Finally sleep overcame her.