Two weeks after the Yule Ball, Ron found himself on his knees, gasping for breath, the sweat pouring off him. Fleur really wanted to wring everything out of him today.

"Please, Fleur," he said between laboured breaths. "I need to rest."

Fleur looked down at him, unimpressed.

"I thought you 'ad a little more in you than zat," she said.

"Fleur, we've been at it for two hours," Ron protested. "Give a guy a break."

"Fine," she said. "You can rest." Ron breathed a sigh of relief. "For ten minutes," she added.

When Ron found Fleur, following his run in with the twins on the night of the ball, she had immediately noticed that something was wrong. She had demanded that Ron tell her what had happened and was predictably furious when he'd led her to a quiet corner and told her. She had wanted to find and exact revenge upon Ron's brothers straight away, but Ron just about managed to talk her down. Even so, it was only him telling her that the twins knew Hogwarts too well to be found if they didn't want to be found that convinced her to leave it be… for the moment.

She had declared his dress robes to be… rescuable. Apparently, the headmaster's fast fix had missed the seams or thinned the pattern or something else that Ron didn't understand. She tried to demand that he leave them with her, but Ron pointed out that she had the second task coming up and that he was unlikely to need dress robes in the immediate future.

Needless to say, it had been a sour ending to an otherwise enjoyable evening. Neither Fleur nor Ron had any inclination to continue enjoying the festivities and the evening was winding down anyway, so Ron escorted an angry Fleur back to the Beauxbatons' carriage. Her allure had taken on a burning, vengeful feeling, so it had probably been for the best for her to stay away from large crowds, in any case. As he was walking back to Gryffindor Tower, Ron realised that he had forgotten to kiss her goodnight.

Fleur had found him the next day at breakfast and had asked him, no, told him that if he was going to be finding himself getting into danger, that he would be joining her for her tournament practice. It had caused quite a stir when she first brought him into the Beauxbatons' carriage to practise in one of their classrooms, the carriage was much larger on the inside. Accusations that he was spying on her for Hogwarts, or, for those who knew who Ron was, for Harry directly, were flying thick and fast, and eventually Madam Maxine was summoned. Fleur ignored all the arguments and simply told her headmistress that she would either practise with Ron in the carriage, or in the castle. Faced with such an ultimatum, and without any real way of punishing Fleur without damaging her chances in the tournament, the headmistress had reluctantly permitted it.

Ron still had to attend lessons, of course, as well as, well, eat and sleep and do homework, and so on, but Fleur was both demanding and had high expectations for the progress that Ron should make, and so Ron found almost all of his free time taken up with her.

Ron did not mind this arrangement.

Still, perhaps his homework was becoming a bit rushed and sloppy, which, to be fair, was not a massive deviation from normality, but his practical work in charms, transfiguration and defence against the dark arts was improving rapidly, even earning him house points in lessons, which raised a few eyebrows from those who had been in lessons with Ron for the last three and a half years.

Fleur was right that the Hogwarts' curriculum was demanding. Even though she was a few years above him, none of the magic she was showing him was too far beyond his abilities. He had even surprised her when she wanted to teach him the Summoning Charm, by telling her that he had already studied it before Christmas. Apparently, it wasn't taught at Beauxbatons until much later. He had to demonstrate it three times before she judged it to be satisfactory, though.

"Hey, Fleur," Ron said, as he moved into a sitting position. Fleur had been focussing on combat magic today and had been pushing Ron, and herself too, through endurance exercises. "Do you mind if I go and hang out with my friends later?"

Fleur gave him a Look.

"You don't need my permission to go and spend time with other people. I'm your girlfriend, not your professeure."

"I was just checking," Ron held up his hands defensively. "I didn't know if you had anything special planned for today."

"Oh?" Fleur quirked an eyebrow. "Something special?." She smirked at Ron and walked over till she was looming over him. "What did you 'ave in mind?" Her allure flared provocatively.

"I… uh…" Ron stammered.

Fleur laughed and flipped her hair over her shoulder.

"You are too easy!" she said, fixing him with a happy smile. "Go and spend time with your friends. I'll think of something… special… that we can do, tomorrow."

Ron's ears burned, but he refused to take Fleur's teasing without at least trying to fight back.

"Not if I think of something first," he said. He even managed to get it out without stuttering.

Fleur gasped in mock surprise.

"So, 'e can be taught," she said, before offering him her hand and helping to pull him to his feet. "Maybe there is some 'ope for 'im in the flirting game. Now, before you leave," she said, stepping back and pulling out her wand. "You owe me one more round."

Ron groaned, but did manage to bring his wand up in time.

It was a Sunday, so when Ron didn't find Harry or Hermione in the Common Room, the next place he looked was the library.

They weren't at Hermione's usual table, but there were a couple of other tables they sometimes used. He walked softly between the tall shelves. It was always a good idea to be quiet in the library, but on a Sunday, there were usually so few people present that Madam Pince would hear the quietest whisper from the other side of the library and would swoop down upon anyone disturbing the peace.

In the far corner of the library, he did find Harry, but he wasn't with Hermione, he was with Ginny, and they weren't studying, they were…

"Oi!" Ron whispered.

Harry and Ginny broke apart, both of their faces breaking out in huge blushes.

"Ron!" Harry whispered back.

"Do you mind?!" Ginny hissed at the same moment.

"Do I mind?!" Ron said incredulously. "I'm not the one with my face attached to someone else's in public!"

"We're not in public!" Ginny shot back.

Ron gave an exaggerated look around them.

"Sure looks like it to me."

Ginny scoffed angrily.

"It's the library on a Sunday. Besides, don't act as if you're some paragon of virtue with your girlfriend."

"When have I ever been found snogging her face off in public?" Ron asked.

"Lavender said that she caught the two of you in a secret passageway just last week!"

"Exactly!" said Ron. "A secret passageway, with a tapestry covering it and everything."

"And we're surrounded by bookshelves!"

"Guys, please, keep it down," Harry implored. "Ron, I'm…"

"Don't you apologise to him," Ginny said. "He's only upset because I'm his sister."

"And if Fleur were Harry's sister," Ron snapped back. "I'd be extra considerate of him."

"Wait," Harry said. "If Fleur were my sister, would that make her English, or me French?"

Ron and Ginny gave him such a look in response to that, that they momentarily forgot about their argument.

"Can we just…" Harry started to say, then sighed. "Look, Ron, we'll be more… discrete… in the future, alright?" Ginny gave him a look of betrayal. "But!" he held up a placating hand to forestall Ginny's objection. "Can you not bite our heads off? You did say that you were alright with us going to the ball together."

"Well, yeah, the ball was alright, but…"

"Ron," Ginny said warningly.

"Fine, fine."

"Good!" Harry said with exaggerated cheerfulness. "Now, why were you looking for us in the first place?"

Ron collapsed into an empty chair.

"I've spent so much time with Fleur recently that I've hardly had time for anything else, so I just wanted to hang out with everyone. Where is Hermione, anyway?"

"She's with Krum, again," Harry said.

"And wasn't that a surprise," Ginny said.

"Ron's dating Fleur," Harry pointed out.

"And wasn't that a surprise," Ginny quipped.

"Ha ha," Ron said sarcastically. "So what are you two up to? Or, I mean, what were you supposed to be up to, before you got caught up with all the…"

"Yes! Thank you, Ron," Ginny interrupted him.

Harry shook his head at the antics of the two siblings.

"Second task stuff. You know what it is, right?" Harry asked him.

"Something about mermaids, isn't it?"

"Yeah," Harry said, digging under the books and parchment littering the desk. Eventually, he brandished a well-worn scrap. "Here, this is the riddle. Essentially, I'll need to go to the mermaids who live in the lake and retrieve… something. We're not sure what it is, but we're thinking it might be a clue or tool for the third task."

Ron nodded along.

"Okay, so what's all this," he said, gesturing to the books in front of them.

"We're trying to work out how, exactly, to do that," Harry said.

"What? Go underwater? Why don't you just use a…" and then Ron stopped talking.

"Use a what?" Ginny demanded. "Do you know a spell to breathe underwater?"

Ron nodded dumbly. Indeed, he did know a spell to do just that, the Bubblehead Charm, but there was a problem, because…

"Something that Fleur showed you?" Harry asked.

Ron nodded again. It had seemed such a natural spell to learn, the ability to provide yourself with a clean supply of air, she hadn't even mentioned that it could be a solution to the problem of the second task. By silent agreement, they didn't talk about the upcoming events in any detail at all.

"What does that matter?" Ginny demanded. "It's not like she owns it or anything. Did she ask you to keep it from Harry?"

"No, but…"

"But nothing," Ginny interrupted him. "It's not like Harry asked to be in this bloody tournament. I thought you were on his side now."

"Ginny…" Harry said to her, almost pleadingly.

"Of course I'm on Harry's side," Ron said hotly.

"Oh, except when a pretty witch bats her eyelashes at you. When that happens Harry drops to second place in your mind. I guess the twins were right about you."

"Hey! At least I…"

"Okay, okay, okay!" Harry interrupted. "What is it with you two, today? If Ron doesn't feel comfortable sharing what Fleur's spell is, then he doesn't have to. I don't want to be a cheat either, to be honest."

"But when Hagrid shows you the dragons…" Ginny said. Harry held up his hands and tried to shush her, his head spinning around to see if they were within earshot of anyone else, but Ginny ignored him. "…it's fine."

"That's totally different," argued Harry. "Hagrid was watching out for me so that I didn't get roasted alive and in the end, all four of the champions knew about the dragons before the task. If we don't come up with a plan before this task, the worst that will happen is that I'll have to forfeit the event and, as you so rightly pointed out, I never wanted to be in the tournament in the first place."

Ginny stood up abruptly.

"I'm going to go look for more books, I guess," she said with a voice full of barely constrained frustration. With a final glare at Ron, she disappeared into the bookshelves.

Harry and Ron waited until her footsteps faded into the distance before letting out a breath each.

"Sorry," Ron said, but Harry waved his apology away.

"But, maybe a hint?" Harry said hopefully. Ron just gave him a guilty look. "Fine, fine."

"Let me get out of the way then," Ron said, rising to his feet. "I won't be any help if I have an answer, but can't give it."

"Sure," Harry said casually. "Don't worry about it."

"You're a good guy, Harry," Ron said. He was suddenly reminded of what the twins said, that Harry was so willing to forgive people, because he didn't have that many friends growing up and was desperate to keep the ones he had. Ron didn't normally give much weight to the opinions of the twins, but, just for a moment, he did think that they may have had a point.

Ron left the library, but he realised that he didn't have anywhere to go. Harry and Hermione were both busy. He'd finished, for a given value of finished, his homework for the next day. He could go join in whatever Seamus and Dean were up to, or even Neville, but he wasn't really feeling up for that. They probably just make crude jokes about him and Fleur the whole time. He found himself exiting the castle and walking across the grounds. He noticed what a nice day it was, except for the cold, and set off for the school broomsheds. He had been hoping to take Oliver Wood's place on the Quidditch team this year, and while that had obviously fallen through, he still could do with the flying practice.

There were a few younger students throwing a Quaffle between them, fifty feet up in the air, which meant that the better brooms would all be taken, but with all the practice he'd had with his family's old broomsticks, it shouldn't be a problem for him.

Not wanting to intrude on the ongoing game of catch, he took off on a long, lazy loop around the castle. It felt good to get back up in the air. After watching Ireland versus Bulgaria and then Harry versus Hungarian Horntail, Ron was eager to get back into practice.

Ron grumbled when the broom he had selected began to list to one side. He adjusted his position to give himself some natural pull in the other direction and, for a moment, the broom flew mostly straight, but then the list vanished and Ron almost flew into the Astronomy Tower.

"Fly straight," Ron demanded, slapping the broomstick handle.

The broomstick quivered underneath him, then it started to slow down. Ron quickly pushed the tip of the broomstick down into a shallow dive, so that he didn't lose speed.

"Behave!" Ron glared at the broomstick. "Behave or I'll chop you up for firewood."

That worked. Why the school kept these old broomsticks was a mystery to Ron, they were sure to cause a serious injury, sooner or later.

"You haff a good affinity with your broom."

Ron almost cried out and lost his grip. He twisted his head to see Krum floating easily alongside him on his own broomstick.

"Actually, it's the school's broomstick," Ron said, after calming himself down.

Krum raised an eyebrow.

"In dat case it's even more impressive. Do you fly a lot?"

"A bit, yeah," Ron said. "My brothers make me join them for Quidditch practice during the summers. I wanted to join my house team this year, but…"

Krum nodded in understanding, but before Ron could say anything else, his broom dropped ten feet.

Krum laughed while Ron brought it back under control.

"Like I said," Ron said angrily. "It's a school broom."

"When I first got to Durmstrang," Krum said. "I spent the first month sneaking out after curfew to break into the broomstick storage and fix all the issues their broom's had developed."

"You should see what we have at home," Ron said. "We have an old Shooting Star that can only go above five miles an hour if you fly it upside-down."

Krum grinned.

"When I was growing up," he said. "Oh, I couldn't have been older than five, dere was a broom at my grandfather's house which must have been older than he was. The shaft was a huge piece of solid oak and must have weighed as much as I did. I used to scream at it, my toes barely clearing the grass, just to get it to turn the widest corners you can imagine."

Ron smiled at the mental image. They continued to fly next to each other for a few minutes, but Ron could tell that Krum wanted to say something.

"Were you looking for me for something, or did you just happen to see me?" Ron asked.

Krum grimaced.

"It seemed like dah best place to talk to you without being overheard."

Ron nodded in understanding. Somehow, Rita Skeeter had infiltrated the castle during the Yule Ball and had eavesdropped on a private conversation Hagrid was having. He was still barely coming out of his hut, even two weeks after Skeeter had published her expose on his parentage.

"I wanted to ask you about Hermione," Krum said, flying closer to Ron.

"Yeah?"

"You and Harry, you are her friends, yes?"

Ron nodded.

"And nothing more?"

Ron blinked.

"No… what gave you that idea?" he asked.

Krum relaxed a little at Ron's denial.

"She talks about the both of you so much, and you did say dat you had danced together a lot."

"That was just practising for the ball," Ron said hurriedly. His mind was racing. Was Krum jealous of him?

Ron's broom made another sudden drop, Ron swore under his breath as he brought it back under control.

"Come land over here," Krum said, moving ahead of Ron. "I think I know what dah problem is."

Ron followed Krum to the ground, though his landing was a little rougher than the Quidditch star's.

"Here," Krum said, drawing out his wand and holding his broomstick out to Ron. "Hold this."

They exchanged broomsticks and Krum began muttering while tapping his wand against the Hogwarts broom.

"I was right. The charms are all still strong, but sometimes in older brooms the charms become… How do you say in English? Not connected?"

"Disconnected," Ron said.

"Disconnected," Krum repeated. "This will take a minute."

Krum began casting spells on the broomstick and only then did Ron realise whose broomstick he was holding. He stared at the Firebolt almost reverently.

"Is this the one you flew at the Quidditch World Cup Final?" Ron asked.

Krum grunted.

"Wow," Ron said breathlessly. He examined it closely.

"You can fly it a little, if you'd like," Krum said, nonchalantly.

"What? Really?"

"Yes," Krum said and then he added a moment later, "I'm trying to be nice to Hermione's friends."

Slowly, as if he didn't quite believe it, Ron mounted the already legendary, in his eyes, broomstick.

"It's a Firebolt, though," Krum said. "So take it easy."

Ron paused for a moment. He wasn't as natural a flyer as Krum or Harry were, but he wasn't bad either and he had been up in the air since he was four years old.

Pushing the Firebolt to its top acceleration, Ron rocketed off the ground. Within the space of a single breath, he was above the top of the castle. Another breath and he could hardly see Krum beneath him. He pulled back on the broom and, after his almost vertical take-off, he flipped around and began a spiralling descent, before levelling out, just above the ground and shooting by Krum.

Krum was laughing when Ron landed next to him.

"Not bad," Krum said amiably. "But you can't fool me, when did you fly a Firebolt before?"

"I flew Harry's, of course," Ron said.

"Ah," Krum nodded in understanding. "Of course. He flew very well against the dragon."

"He's the best flyer I know," Ron said sincerely.

"Oh? But you know me now," Krum pointed out.

"Yes, I do," Ron said, with a challenging look.

Krum met his stare with a very confident look.

"The only time Harry missed the Snitch was when he was attacked by Dementors," Ron argued. "He's such a natural flyer that he took a tour of the grounds on a hippogriff."

"Oh, but you know dat I cannot let this go unanswered," Krum said. "You think that Harry could outfly me?"

Ron almost broke under Krum's confident expression, but he managed to keep his cool.

"I know it."

Ron believed in many powerful things at Hogwarts. The power of the headmaster was undeniable. The power that Harry had to get into trouble was similarly potent. The power of the kitchen to feed the population of teenagers was almost legendary. But, by far, the most powerful thing that Ron believed existed at Hogwarts was the rumour mill.

By dinner time, everyone had heard how Victor Krum and Harry Potter were going to have a flying competition. By the time he got back to the Common Room, Ron was hearing how Cedric Diggory was insisting to join, after all, he was the only Seeker who had ever defeated Harry. By the time Harry climbed in through the portrait hole with Ginny, Ron and Hermione were listening with interest to a particularly engaging rumour that Krum and Harry were competing for Hermione's love and they had challenged each other to something called a 'flight to the death'.

"Hey, Ron," Harry said calmly, sitting in the chair next to him. "I heard the craziest thing."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, apparently you challenged Krum to a flying contest on my behalf. You know, Victor Krum? World Cup Final Snitch catching Victor Krum? Best Seeker in the world Victor Krum?"

"Hmm, I heard that too, now that you mention it," Ron said.

"Harry, why didn't you mention that you were in love with me?" Hermione asked, her eyes full of mirth.

Harry groaned.

"What am I going to do?" He despaired.

"Compete against him?" Ron suggested.

"In a flying contest?!"

"I keep telling you, Harry," said Ginny. "You're doubting yourself again. Krum's a world-class seeker, but you can beat him at pure flying."

"I don't understand what that's supposed to mean," Hermione said.

Ginny pondered how to say what she wanted to for a moment.

"On the Quidditch pitch, with thirteen other people and four balls flying around, he's great at choosing the right sporting decision," Ginny explained. "His flying is good, but the reason he rose to such prominence in Quidditch is because he out-thinks the other Seeker, not out flying them specifically."

"Like his Wronski Feint at the final," Ron pointed out.

"Exactly."

Harry still didn't look convinced.

"Harry, you outflew Malfoy, and loathe as I am to admit it, he can fly well, your very first time on a broom," Ron argued.

"Cedric wasn't afraid to join in," added Hermione.

Harry perked up at that.

"Cedric's joining in, too?"

"Yeah," Ron said.

"Oh, okay then. I'll do it," Harry said.

Hermione spluttered for a moment.

"That was what convinced you?"

"Well, yeah," Harry said, scratching his head. "I've got a score to settle with Cedric, haven't I?"

"Boys," Hermione muttered under her breath.

Ron watched as Harry, Krum and Cedric shook hands in the centre of a huge ring of students. As it wasn't an official event, they couldn't use the Quidditch pitch as a venue, nor any of the professors to officiate, but the wide, open Hogwarts' grounds and one of the Beauxbatons' prefects were acceptable to everyone.

"Are you sure that you're not upset that all the other champions are competing and you're not?" Ron asked, turning to look at Fleur. They were sat on a picnic blanket that she had conjured. There were other people nearby, but they were focussing on the other three champions and were not so close that they could overhear them.

"Of course I'm not upset," Fleur said airily. "Besides, this event reeks of testosterone."

They watched as the three competitors took off and began a game of 'follow the leader', Cedric taking the first turn at the front.

"It's interesting," Ron said. "Because you're normally so competitive and you have the right build for it, but you don't play Quidditch."

Fleur didn't answer for a moment, instead watching Harry and Krum follow Cedric through a series of barrel-rolls.

"I do like flying," Fleur admitted.

"Then why not play?" Ron asked.

Fleur's eyes tracked a particularly tight loop-de-loop.

"It's my allure," she said, still watching the flying.

Ron frowned.

"Your allure? I don't understand."

"It would be…" Fleur grimaced. "Unsportsmanly. Chess is a mental sport, where players focus on the game, not the player… and if controlling my allure gets too difficult, I can get up and leave the board for a while. But Quidditch? The players are full of energy and desire, plus they're constantly watching everyone else. If I were to compete there? It wouldn't be fair to everyone else."

Ron joined in the applause as Cedric pulled back and let Krum take the lead, who immediately led Harry and Cedric on a series of death-defying Wronski Feints.

"You could argue that it's their fault if they can't fly properly when you're nearby," Ron argued. "After all, there's no rule against being too beautiful."

Fleur gave him an appreciative smile, but it quickly faded away.

"But then 'ow would I be thought of? A Quidditch player who wins through beauty? I want to win because I'm the best, not because of my ancestry."

Krum was now leading Harry and Cedric through some incredibly tight turns an inch above the surface of the lake.

"You're not unhappy about your looks, are you?" Ron said.

"No," Fleur said quickly. "No. I would never resent my good looks, or say anything like 'beauty is a curse'. I like being beautiful and I spend a lot of time making myself as beautiful as I can be, but…"

"But?" Ron prompted.

Fleur sighed.

"Sometimes I wish zat people would recognise me for my excellent academics or how much hard work I do. But the first thing that people see is always my beauty."

"I noticed you for your chess," Ron said.

Fleur scoffed.

You did not recognise me for my chess when you first saw me, though, right?"

Ron winced.

"I suppose so… sorry."

"You have nothing to apologise for," Fleur told him, squeezing his hand. "I know zat you don't see me as some brainless beauty or as a challenge to conquer."

As they watched, Cedric clipped the surface of the water. There was a cry of concern and dismay among the spectators as he lost control of his broom and fell into the water. Both Harry and Krum broke off, circling back to help him, but a moment later, his head appeared out of the water and he waved to let everyone know he was alright. Someone started rowing a boat towards him, while Krum fell in behind Harry.

"That'll make Harry happy," Ron said.

"Was he that upset that he lost a single Quidditch game?" Fleur asked.

"Wouldn't you be?" Ron shot back at her.

Fleur shrugged, then nodded.

Harry began a set of impressive aerial acrobatics that were bordering on the insane.

"You don't want to be Fleur the part-Veela, you want to be Fleur the amazing witch, who just happens to be part-Veela," Ron said.

"Exactly," Fleur said, gesturing determinedly with her hand. "Why do you think I wanted to compete in this tournament? It wasn't for the wonders of Britain, I can tell you zat."

"Surely it's not all bad," Ron said, giving her a coy look.

"Maybe not all bad. She smiled at him.

Harry broke into a vertical dive, copying Krum's signature Wronski Feint. Krum followed him perfectly, including when Harry pulled out of the dive an instant before hitting the ground and shot off towards the forest.

"Surely, 'e cannot mean to go through the trees?" Fleur asked, eyes wide.

"It's Harry, I wouldn't expect anything less than the craziest, most dangerous plan," Ron said, but even with years of experience watching Harry fly, he was tense.

Harry entered the trees, Krum a half-second behind him, and they quickly lost sight of the two madmen as they weaved through the trees. The noise of the crowd grew in volume and in anticipation. Ron could see Hermione standing up, her fingers clawing at her face in terror. A flock of birds took off in the distance, which caused somebody to scream.

Eventually, after what seemed like minutes, but can't have been longer than twenty seconds, a broomstick emerged above the trees. It was Krum, he'd either lost track of Harry or thought it too dangerous to try and follow. Harry emerged from the forest a few moments later, causing a huge wave of applause to break out, Ron and Fleur joining in. Harry and Krum met in the air and exchanged a few words and a handshake before landing among the spectators. Cedric joined them when the Beauxbatons' prefect officially named Harry the winner.

"That'll be you in a couple of weeks," Ron said to Fleur privately.

She hummed in agreement, but while Ron was looking at Harry, his arms raised in victory, Fleur was looking at Cedric. There was a smile on the Hufflepuff's face, but even from as far away as they were, Fleur could see him shivering. Her gaze swept across to the dark water of the lake. She felt colder just looking at it.