Chapter Three

Hermione groaned as she sank down onto the bench next to Ron, who as usual was piling a large amount of food onto his plate. Tiredly she ran a hand through her hair; almost everyone had gotten up late on this Boxing Day, she included. And though it was now nearly noon, students were just starting to shuffle into the Great Hall, some of them still in their bedclothes. The house elves had seemed to take in consideration the fact that everyone might be up late, and thus there were breakfast foods as well as lunch foods on each table. It really was quite nice.

"Morning, Ron."

"Mrrrn."

"You might try swallowing before speaking. Honestly, Ronald!" Hermione frowned in disapproval. When Ron only offered her a half-shrug in response, she let out a sigh, helping herself to a few slices of hardboiled eggs and pancakes, pouring herself very generous amounts of syrup. Before she started cutting into her pancakes, however, she looked to Ron again and asked, "Where's Harry?"

Ron swallowed this time, taking a gulp of juice to help the food down, and then with another slight shrug, replied, "I dunno. He wasn't in bed when I woke up. I reckon… he's gone off to the library or something." And as though to make sure that Harry wasn't in the room, he looked around again, but shook his head when he didn't see their messy-haired friend.

And that was that. They didn't speak as they continued with eating – they were just exhausted from the night before, perhaps, and didn't feel much like talking. Well, at least, that was why Hermione wasn't talking just yet. As she swallowed a mouthful of pancakes, she allowed her gaze to drift over towards the Ravenclaw table, only to be disappointed when she didn't see that familiar silvery-blonde she was hoping to see. As she started to cut into the pancakes again, a light voice reached her ears, calling out to her in greeting, and not long after Hermione felt someone sit down beside her.

"Morning, Fleur," Hermione said without looking over, a smile forming on her face, surprised but nonetheless glad that the girl had decided to sit by her today. Though she had a feeling that might've had something to do with the fact that there was hardly anyone at the Ravenclaw table… And she found that slightly disheartening; so Fleur didn't really want to sit by her – she had pretty much been forced to. She looked over at the girl then.

"Good morning, Hermione," Fleur wore a smile that matched Hermione's, and she stifled a yawn as she looked around the table. It didn't take long for her to start heaping different foods onto her plate, and Hermione could only gape as she saw what was on the girl's plate. Noting the Gryffindor's shocked look, Fleur quirked a brow, smile still on her lips, "What?"

"Well, I just never figured you ate that much," Hermione replied honestly, allowing her eyes to trail over the French witch's form before looking away embarrassedly… She hoped Fleur hadn't seen her do that; it seemed a very boyish thing to do, and Hermione knew Fleur hated it when guys stared at her with that vacant expression on their faces… "You don't look like you eat that much."

Fleur looked offended at the possibility of rejecting food. "I love food," she grinned, laughing as Ron nodded enthusiastically in support, then took her time to look Hermione over, eyes sparkling. She had seen Hermione look at her, and while she felt disgusted whenever anyone else set eyes upon her in that way, she didn't mind so much when the Gryffindor girl did it… Her eyes were softer, kinder, more alert. They weren't glazed over. Fleur had seen something in the other girl's eyes, and while she couldn't place exactly what it was, it sent chills running up and down her spine, and she liked it.

"Ron," Hermione's sharp voice brought both Ron and Fleur back down to earth, and Ron turned to stare at Hermione quizzically. "Stop drooling; it's not very flattering." The Gryffindor fourth year looked rather unhappy with the boy, and Fleur tried in vain to hide a soft chuckle behind her hand. When Hermione turned to glare at her, she coughed lightly and turned to her food, eating in silence.

"Okay," Hermione began ten minutes later as Fleur finished the last bits of her brunch. "Ron?" The dazed boy turned his gaze from the French witch to Hermione, who was now frowning at him. "I'll see you and Harry in the common room later." That was, of course, assuming that Harry showed up. She still had no idea where he'd gone. Without waiting for a response from Ron, she got up and excused herself. Right before she walked away, she turned back to Fleur, "Want to come?"

Just minutes later the two girls found themselves strolling by the lake, the fresh breeze blowing past them and causing their hair and robes to billow in the wind. They walked in relative silence, ignoring the cheery laughter coming from nearby, content to be in their own little bubble. After a few more moments, Fleur slowly, carefully allowed her hand to brush against Hermione's. The French girl felt the tingles start at her fingertips and run up and down her arm, and when Hermione didn't jerk away, she closed her fingers gently around Hermione's.

They strolled along like that, their fingers gradually entwining. Hermione looked at Fleur shyly then, and was surprised when she saw a hint of a blush forming on the other girl's cheeks; she'd never thought Fleur to be shy. Nothing was said and only when they sat down on a bench under one of the trees did Fleur clear her throat, glancing up once at Hermione before staring out at the lake.

"You were beautiful last night."

Hermione flushed and stammered, "Th- thank you." Her gaze darted from Fleur to the ground and then back up to Fleur again. "So were you." She flushed again and looked back down at her lap.

Fleur smiled, and though she tried to maintain her cool, calm exterior, she couldn't help but feel a warmth rise gradually in her, and before she knew it, she too was blushing. She unlinked her hand from Hermione's, ignoring the lack of warmth that now presided there. She thought she might've seen a tentacle poke out of the water briefly, the Giant Squid saying hello, before going back under again. She must have been thinking for quite a while when she felt Hermione's fingers seek hers out, and she turned to look at the girl. "Yes?"

"Oh," Hermione looked embarrassed. "I- um…" She didn't know how to explain her actions. She didn't know exactly what was going on between Fleur and herself, but whatever it was, it was very nice and she didn't want it to stop anytime soon. She liked the feeling that raced through her when their fingers touched, when their hands were clasped together. It unnerved her, but in a good way… And she wanted more. She thought for a minute, wondering how to put it in words. "I just, er… wanted to hold your hand." She turned pink at this confession and suddenly garnered a huge interest in the grass.

Fleur didn't say or do anything for a while, and Hermione wondered if the girl had even been listening to her at all. But then the French witch soon slipped her hand into Hermione's and squeezed it gently, causing the Gryffindor to look at her and smile again. And then before Hermione knew it, she felt Fleur lean in closer to her, resting her head on Hermione's shoulder. The brunette was suddenly aware of the vague, fresh scent of lilacs and lavender, and wondered how she had never noticed the smell before. She knew it was Fleur, but for all the times she'd spent with the girl, never once had she smelled this smell. Perhaps it had to do with the fact that they had never touched each other before this; there had only been chaste taps on the shoulder or lingering brushes of arm against arm, leg against leg… But they had never held hands, and certainly neither of them had used the other as a pillow support. Not that Hermione minded being Fleur's pillow; she was quite enjoying it, actually.

"Oh," Fleur started, sitting up straight suddenly and looking at Hermione. "I almost forgot." She smiled slightly at Hermione's quizzical look and reaching up her sleeve, quickly produced her wand, which caused the Gryffindor girl to raise an eyebrow warily. The French witch laughed at the girl's expression and shook her head, a glint of humour in her eyes. "Zere is no need to worry, non? I will not 'ex you." Not like that Davies boy who had tried to do more than just kiss her last night. And with that, she called out firmly, "Accio present!"

The object that arrived in Fleur's hands not a few minutes later was wrapped rather nicely in red wrapping paper with gold sparkles on it – much like Hermione's house colours, although Fleur didn't realize that until after she'd finished wrapping it, at which point she just decided it was all the better that it worked out that way. "Here," the blonde said, proffering the item towards the other girl. "I know it's late… but Merry Christmas."

Hermione took the gift from the girl hesitantly. "You really shouldn't have… I didn't… I didn't get you anything," she said, looking ashamed at this admission. Truth was, Hermione hadn't thought she and Fleur would've made up, and by the time they did, Hogsmeade weekend had passed already, and the Yule Ball was just in a few days.

"Don't be silly. You British are too polite," Fleur smiled to show she hadn't meant it offensively. When Hermione still hesitated, Fleur rolled her eyes and urged, "Open it."

Hermione did as was requested, and gasped in surprise and glee when her eyes fell on the title of the book. Magical Creatures of Asia and Europe. It was a rather rare book, and Hermione had spent a good amount of her time with Fleur talking about the book. "Fleur!" she exclaimed, wrapping her arms around the girl and pulling her into a tight hug. "This is brilliant!" She pulled back from the hug, and grinned, "Oh, thank you!"

Fleur looked very pleased at the other girl's joy, and could only smile as she replied, "Well. I'm very glad you like it." It hadn't exactly been easy to find the book; Fleur'd spent a lot of time in various bookstores in Hogsmeade, and when that proved to be unfruitful, she turned instead to the Daily Prophet to find the book. She managed to find it in an advertisement in the Prophet after days of looking, and a week after she had paid for it, an owl dropped the book off.

But now Hermione felt badly for having absolutely nothing for Fleur, who had given her possibly one of the best gifts she had ever received – and not look for anything in return. She reached down to hold Fleur's hand again, and when the girl looked up at her, she paused for a minute, contemplating, then decided just to get it over with and blurted, "What are you doing this weekend?"

Fleur left the lake about an hour later, feeling distinctly happier. She could hardly believe that Hermione had just asked her out on a date – at least, she'd taken the invitation to Hogsmeade later that week to mean just that. Because what else was she supposed to take that as? The Gryffindor had blushed such a deep red that the colour only faded minutes later, and when Fleur had readily agreed, Hermione had looked much too relieved for the invitation to be taken as a regular day out between two regular friends. Smiling at the thought of what awaited her later that week, she strolled back to the Beauxbatons carriage.

Upon entering, she was greeted with a few smiles as well as a couple of scowls. She knew some of her fellow students at Beauxbatons, especially the girls, were envious of her getting the Championship. One would have thought that by this point, they'd have moved on and started supporting their champion instead of being bitter about the fact that they hadn't been chosen. But no. They did support Fleur, but grudgingly so, and in Fleur's opinion, at that rate, they might as well just not support her at all!

Bright blue eyes scanned the interior of the carriage and when they fell upon another blonde, a smile lit upon her face and she walked over, letting out a contented sigh as she sat herself down on the dragon-hide seat. The other blonde girl looked up at her arrival and smiled at Fleur, speaking in fluent French, "What is the problem now?" Still smiling, the girl continued, "You haven't been up to anything bad, have you? Madame Maxime will be very angry with you if you have, I hope you know."

Fleur rolled her eyes, replying in English, "I know, Adrienne, I know." She looked at the girl intently, trying to see if she could see what book the girl was holding in her hands. She knew it was homework-related; almost everyone had yet to finish their homework assignments, and Fleur and Adrienne were no different. Seventh year certainly wasn't easy, but all in all Fleur thought she was having a good time, made all the better by Hermione.

"Were you zeeing zat girl… What waz 'er name… 'ermione?" Adrienne asked curiously and in English this time, her accent more pronounced than Fleur's. She studied the half-Veela for a minute, placing her book down next to her as she eyed the girl with what could have been disapproval. "You 'ad better make zure zat no one 'ears about zis, Fleur." She glanced around and lowered her voice. "You know zat…" she paused, perhaps to think of how to continue, or perhaps thinking better of what she originally intended to say. "…you need to conzentrate on ze second task, yes, Fleur? Not get… what iz ze word… distracted?"

"I know," Fleur repeated with a sigh as she got up now, heading for her room. She had to hear the same thing from Madam Maxime, and now Adrienne was bothering her about it too. Was it too much to ask just for one of her friends to be supportive of her? Adrienne knew Fleur fancied Hermione, and she quite clearly knew that she had just seen Hermione… yet there wasn't a question about how it went, or why in the world Fleur looked so happy. Merlin, Adrienne hadn't even asked about her day!

"Fleur! Where are you going?" Adrienne called after her friend in their native tongue, but Fleur just walked on, raising a hand in goodbye as she headed up the stairs and entered her room, shutting the door quickly after her. She sat down on the edge of her bed, staring around the room. None of her roommates were in at the time, and Fleur had a feeling they had either gone for a walk around the grounds, or were out in the main room studying like Adrienne. Reaching under her bed now, Fleur pulled out her charms textbook and got to work. School was going to start soon, after all, and she wanted to have her assignments completed in time. So why not start now?

The French witch flicked her wand like the textbook had described it, muttering the incantation under her breath as she tried to master the spell. Twice already she had performed the spell successfully, and she would try a few more times just to make sure that she really did know the spell, before she'd move on to attempting the spell wordlessly. A few minutes later, with a wave of her wand and a hard, concentrating look, she managed to tidy up the mess on her bed (quills and parchments were all scattered about). Very pleased with herself, she scattered the parchments and quills again and tried her hand at the spell again. It worked again, though not as well. But by the time four o'clock in the afternoon rolled around, she could safely say that she had pretty much mastered the spell.

So she turned her attention to other things.

"C'mon Hermione," Ron pleaded. "Just lemme take a look at your parchment." He paused. "How am I supposed to know about the 'Great Goblin Wars of 1509'? Oh. Maybe not 1509, but… all they do is fight and fight; they've had so many wars… so which one are we supposed to right about?"

Hermione refused to hear any of it, and scrunching her nose up, she turned the other direction and stared into the fire, trying her best to ignore her red-haired friend. She looked at Harry, who only glanced up from his essay to grin at Ron, before looking at his again and resuming his work. When Ron begged her again, the brunette frowned and pointed out, "Ron, you still have a week to work on this. It's not due tomorrow, you know."

Ron brightened at this. "So y'mean to say, if I don't finish this up, you'll let me have a look?"

"Only if you work on yours first for the next few days," Hermione relented slightly.

Ron's face fell; he hated writing essays, and this one was a particularly long one. If he didn't work on it over the next few days, he knew Hermione wouldn't let him see what she'd written… and if he worked hard on it, there simply was no point in seeing what Hermione had written down, because he would've done his own work. So either way, he couldn't not do it. Grudgingly he replied, "Fine."

Hermione watched as her two friends worked on their essays, bored out of her mind. She didn't have a good book to read, and usually she would have gone to the library, but just as she was about to do so, Ginny arrived, and before Harry or Ron could tell them to take their conversation elsewhere, Ginny had already started, "Are you lot going to Hogsmeade this weekend?"

Ron mumbled something in reply, Harry gave a noncommittal shrug, and Hermione – well, Hermione sort of nodded. Ginny seemed pleased enough with this response and continued, "Great. I'll be going with you then. That all right?" She looked expectantly at Hermione, who only looked away. Ginny found this strange and hesitated, "It is all right for me to come along, right? I didn't mean to impose…"

"Oh, that's not it at all, Gin," Hermione replied, embarrassed and ashamed. "I want you to come along, but… I've already agreed to meet someone there, and I haven't told them anything about you coming…"

Both Ron and Harry looked up at this, as did Ginny, though a smile was on her face. The boys merely looked shocked, to which Ginny waved them off, telling them to go back to their homework assignment. Meanwhile, she tried to get all she could out of the other Gryffindor girl, but only succeeded at getting her to admit that she was to meet someone they all knew there. A thoughtful look on her face, she guessed, "Hm. Let me see…" She counted off on her fingers, as though going through a list of people in her head. "…Are you seeing Viktor?"

"No," Hermione replied pointedly and closed her eyes, refusing to answer any further questions Ginny thought up of. With a mischievous grin, Ginny sidled up closer to the other girl, causing the brunette to open an eye and stare inquisitively at her and shift away ever so slightly, before closing her eyes again. The whisper that came next was hushed and so silent that Hermione had almost missed it. But the blush that spread across her cheeks was an answer enough for Ginny, who only smirked knowingly and then walked off, which made Harry and Ron glance at their friend curiously.

Hermione didn't say anything as she sat there in silence, allowing Ginny's words to pass through her and waiting for the tingles that were ever so common whenever that name was uttered in her presence to subside. Fleur. That was what Ginny had asked – was she seeing Fleur Delacour? And Ginny knew just by Hermione's reaction that yes, that was the girl Hermione was seeing this Saturday.

The days flew by quickly, and aside from Wednesday, everything else passed without much fanfare. Because on Wednesday afternoon, Hermione Granger had managed to land herself in detention. She hadn't intended on being caught; in fact the girl hadn't even thought that far. All she had been concentrating on was Roger Davies, and how dare he talk about Fleur in that way. He demeaned her, saying how the French girl hadn't allowed him even a kiss, much less anything else. It was hard not to be disgusted at this behaviour. Actually, Roger had provided some pretty useful information, such as how Fleur had at first turned him down, only to change her mind much later, but that was before he started badmouthing Fleur and before Hermione had had to hex him in front of Ginny and a few other nameless students to get him to shut up.

As luck would have it, however, Professor Snape was in the vicinity, and though his dislike for Hermione was nowhere as intense as his dislike for Harry, he seemed rather pleased at the fact that the girl had hexed someone right under his nose. Not that the Gryffindor had noticed the Potions professor's presence while hexing Roger… but the fact was, she had gotten a Friday night detention with Snape – by far the worst possible way to spend an evening, but what made it even worse was that Professor Snape decided that since Ginny had done nothing to stop this from 'little mishap' as he put it from happening, she too would get a detention. Hermione protested, but when the Potions master threatened her with another detention, she fell silent.

"I'm sorry," Hermione apologized as she and Ginny walked along, still reeling from the fact that she had gotten herself into a detention over Fleur, who wasn't even there, and to top it off had managed to drag her best friend into it as well.

"I can think of better things to do," Ginny admitted, then voice laced with sarcasm, continued, "than spending an evening with our lovely Potions professor." She looked around to check that Professor Snape hadn't heard her, and then continued, "But at least you won't have to do it alone."

Hermione managed a smile, glad that Ginny was so understanding.

"That was a marvelous Bat-Bogey hex, though, I must say," the redheaded girl complimented.

"Thank you," Hermione smiled, shaking herself out of it. "Though it's nowhere near as good as yours."

"Trust me. If you had brothers like mine, you would have perfected the Bat-Bogey hex as well," Ginny paused in her speech, walking along in silence. No words were exchanged between the two for the next few minutes, and then Ginny gently tried getting more information out of Hermione yet again. "So what was that about? He – Roger, I mean – said that Fleur only agreed to go with him just a couple of days before the Ball, didn't he?"

"Yeah…" Hermione trailed off, thinking.

"But didn't you tell us that Fleur and Roger were going together weeks before the Ball?"

"I know – I did," Hermione sighed. "That was what Fleur told me."

"You know what that means don't you?" Ginny started.

But even though Hermione said nothing in reply, she knew. It meant that Fleur had, for some reason or another, lied to her about being Roger's date. Ginny bit her lip to keep herself from grinning as she walked on, knowing what Hermione refused to see for herself and also knowing that her smart friend would be none too pleased with her reaction, and kept her eyes staring directly ahead of her all the way back to the common room.

Fleur sank into the bathtub that Friday evening, taking the egg with her at Madam Maxime's suggestion, trying to think of the Tournament instead of her 'date' with a certain Gryffindor girl the very next day... She ran a finger across the center of its golden shell, briefly wondering if it was really waterproof. It didn't seem like such a pretty, shiny thing should be allowed to touch the water, for it seemed it would only damage it. But… maybe it had something to do with the atmosphere of the bath? Fleur knew it was silly, but she tried it anyway. Wincing in advance, she opened the egg, and as she had expected, a horrid screeching filled the air. She shut it quickly, though it wasn't quick enough because her roommates cursed at her in French, and shortly after she heard the room door slam loudly.

She let out a sigh; at least none of them would 'barge in' on her now; they tended to have the bad habit of coming in whenever she was taking a bath or a shower… even though she had taken care to put a locking charm on it, somehow the Beauxbatons boys and sometimes girls would find their way in. It was no accident, and that made Fleur furious. She knew one of them in particular had taken a fancy to her, but that didn't give her the excuse to walk right in on her – and as for the other girls, Merlin knew why they were just barging in on her! Boys, she could understand – even if she didn't like it – but girls who held no interest in her whatsoever…? It was ridiculous. Even Adrienne, properly stationed at the door, couldn't keep the occasional intruder from entering. It really was quite frustrating, and thus she was glad to be alone.

Holding the egg with both hands now, she lowered it into the water and opened it, prepared to shut it quickly just in case. But nothing much happened. There was no deafening shriek, and she relaxed slightly, watching the bubbles rise to the surface. She thought for a minute, lathering the shampoo into her hair… When she was done she breathed in and then disappeared under the water to wash her hair, and when she did she was surprised to hear gentle voices singing to her.

Come seek us where our voices sound,

We cannot sing above the ground,

And while you're searching, ponder this:

We've taken what you'll sorely miss,

An hour long you'll have to look,

And to recover what we took,

But past an hour – the prospect's black,

Too late, it's gone, we won't come back.

She surfaced at the end, pondering this. She understood the last part of the song – about taking something she would miss… but what was there that she could possibly miss? None of her possessions, certainly. She took in a deep breath and went back under the water again, trying to catch the first few verses, and when she did she resurfaced. She brushed back a wet strand of hair that had plastered to the side of her face and shut the egg.

Come seek us where our voices sound…

"Une sirèn!"

And with that realization, she stayed in the water for a little while longer, finishing up with her bath while pondering what exactly she could do now that she had somewhat of an idea as to what the Second Task was. She dried herself off with a large, fluffy blue towel and then wrapped it tightly around herself as she walked into her room. She absently walked to her drawer and pulled out some fresh clothes: a silky blue top, darker blue than the usual uniform, as well as a pair of black slacks. She slipped into these items and sat on her bed, thinking. Only to be interrupted by a knocking on the room door, which greatly annoyed her because firstly, she was trying not to think of Hermione and concentrate on the hint the egg had given her, and secondly, if it was one of her roommates then the girl needn't knock at all!

"Fichez-moi la paix," Fleur said to the door, hoping whoever it was that he or she would go away. "I need some time to think, non?" But when the door swung open anyway, Fleur was greeted by the sight of not a Beauxbatons student but a very familiar Hogwarts one, and a smile formed on her face. "Hermione!" she grinned, sitting up a bit straighter as she placed the egg by her bedside and got up to greet her friend. "I did not know you were coming."

"Oh," Hermione looked surprised. Was she supposed to tell anyone that she was coming? It was kind of hard, considering she'd just felt like dropping by. "I didn't know I was coming, either." After all, she had just completed detention with Snape and this was the last place she expected to be after that.

Fleur smiled at that, the tingles seizing her once again as she felt Hermione's gaze on her.

"I could leave, if this is a bad time."

"No, no," Fleur protested slightly, reaching out and gently touching the other girl's arm as though that would prevent her from walking away. And surprisingly, it did. Hermione stopped in her tracks and turned to Fleur, her arm warm just from Fleur brushing against it. She quirked a brow at the French girl and waited. But nothing came. Fleur was watching Hermione; she looked as though she had just caught her breath, which made the French girl wonder what she had been up to this evening. Her cheeks were slightly redder than usual, and as she scrutinized the younger girl's face, Fleur's eyes slowly trailed down to Hermione's lips, which were parting as she began to speak. But before she could she was cut off by Fleur's voice, now soft.

"I could kiss you."

A sharp intake of breath, and Hermione took a step forward.

"Then why don't you?"

Fleur paused for a minute. Hermione's bold reply seemed to have surprised both the half-veela and the Muggle-born herself, and the two of them just stared at the other for a while, a million thoughts racing through each of their minds. And just as they thought that the moment was over, the joke was over, Fleur leaned in and captured Hermione's lips with her own.

The kiss was short but searing, including a brief journey made by Fleur's tongue into Hermione's mouth. When they pulled apart, the French witch took her time, nibbling at Hermione's lower lip before pulling back to look at the flushed brunette in front of her. A slow, satisfied smile spread across her face, and Hermione coloured even more.

But not a minute later and the Gryffindor girl had her lips pressed against Fleur's and slipped her arms around the other's waist, pulling her deeper into the kiss. One thing was for sure: This was much better than hand-holding.

A/N: Let me know what you think. I know it might've been overly-cheesy at times. I'm sorry if the French sucked; I don't speak French, so… Yeah. Haha. That never ends well, I suppose.

Okay. A bit of change to the disclaimer: I only own Adrienne, as well as a couple of other students that may or may not be mentioned in the future. All that, and the story idea.