An Unexpected Love

Timeline warning: 4th year fic. Takes place after the second event, but before the third. Fleur is present, but her accent is not, as I don't have the book to check against for accuracy.

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J. K. Rowling.

It was a typical Saturday dinner at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The Great Hall was abuzz with conversation. Students from all three schools chatted excitedly about the Triwizard Tournament, speculating wildly about the possibilities for the Third Task. Some of the fifth and seventh year students, particularly at the Ravenclaw table, pointedly ignored the gossip being bantered about, preferring to focus on the upcoming OWLs and NEWTs. On the whole, it was business as usual. Of course, it could not stay that way for long.

"WHAT?!"

All conversation ceased at once, the students turning their attention to the Gryffindor table with interest. Whatever had made Ron Weasley yell like that must be more fascinating by far than anything they had been talking about. Especially since, the students noted, he was standing, leaning his weight on his hands, and staring in horror at two of the Triwizard champions.

"Sit down, Ron!" hissed Hermione. "You're causing a scene!"

Ron sat back down sheepishly, but never took his eyes off their target.

The other students, seeing this, decided nothing interesting was going on at the moment, so it was safe to return to their previous conversations.

Ron waited until the background regained its steady volume, trying vainly to suppress his embarrassed blush, before expressing his shock. "Surely you don't mean..."

Harry looked at his best friend, annoyance and amusement warring for dominance in his vivid green eyes. "Yes, Ron," he said, mouth quirking slightly, "I do mean."

Ron stammered, having trouble coping with the shock of his friend's proclamation. "B-b-but, love? Don't you mean hate? Or," he said, glancing at their other dinner companion, hoping to avoid offending her too badly, "maybe dislike? Possibly tolerate?"

Harry shook his head, sparing a glance at Fleur Delacouer, who seemed to be taking Ron's comment in stride. "I meant what I said, Ron. Denying it like that won't change the truth."

"But why did you do it, Harry? I thought you were more sensible than that!" Ron exclaimed, trying valiantly not to look ill.

"Well, I wouldn't have done it without Fleur," Harry shrugged.

"I wanted to repay him for saving Gabrielle," Fleur announced, seemingly amused by the commotion. "I felt that this was the best way I could do so."

"She forced you, didn't she?" demanded Ron, starting to sound mildly hysterical.

"It wasn't force so much as... heavy persuasion," began Harry.

"He did not argue after the first one," put in Fleur, who was fighting to repress a smirk.

"But that's disgusting!" Ron complained. "I can't believe you actually..."

"Oh, grow up Ron," cut in Hermione. "Millions of people do it every day."

"He wouldn't have done it if it wasn't for her," Ron groused. "It isn't natural, doing that."

"Oh really?" drawled a voice from behind the group. "I would have thought your family reduced to it years ago, Weasley."

"And I suppose you are an expert on the subject, Malfoy?" growled Ron, clenching his fists.

"Of course, Weasley. Mother positively loves doing it. Father introduced me to it when I was five. It's quite sophisticated," Draco continued, "which explains why you haven't ever tried it."

"I suppose you would have introduced Harry to it?" Hermione asked, trying to keep Ron from attempting a flying tackle from his seat.

"Hardly," snorted Draco. "That's not something I would do with an enemy."

"Unless you were planning on killing him, I suppose," Hermione stated.

Draco grinned ferally. "Of course, Mudblood," he sneered, only to be thrown to the ground by Ron, whom Hermione had given up trying to restrain at that statement.

As the fight grew to epic proportions, various members of Gryffindor and Slytherin deciding it was high time to settle a few differences, Harry and Fleur turned to each other, somewhat bemused by the turn of events.

"I do not see what his problem is," murmured Fleur. "It is wonderful, not some sort of horrible abomination like he seems to think it is."

Harry sighed before poking at the remains of his dinner, trying to ignore the shouts of the teachers who were miserably failing to return order to the Great Hall. "I can't believe he made such a fuss over it," Harry replied, taking a bite of Shepherd's pie. "I mean, what's the big deal about me loving to eat escargot?

Just an idea I couldn't get out of my head.
Comments and criticism appreciated. Flames will be used to light a bonfire.