Chapter 6
It was as if the world was out to get them. No matter how hard Fleur tried, she could never catch Hermione's eye – not in the Great Hall, and certainly not in the corridors when they passed each other. Everyone – or perhaps it was just Adrienne – seemed determined in keeping the two girls apart. Just when Fleur thought she might have a chance of pulling Hermione aside and explaining to her just what had happened that night, Adrienne seemed to appear out of nowhere and drag her down the hall, or just fill her mind with her increasingly incessant babble. Fleur could not remember a time in which she was more annoyed with Adrienne than she was now; even Gabrielle had grown to dislike her, and she and Adrienne usually got along swimmingly.
Though Fleur knew it wasn't fair to push all the blame on her best friend (though she wasn't so sure if that was what Adrienne was anymore). Hermione's own friends had, albeit somewhat reluctantly, told her that Hermione had no wish to see or hear from her ever again. To which Fleur was quick to point out that doing as such would prove nearly impossible, given the fact that they all attended the same school now, and at the very least would have to see each other during mealtimes. Ginny, who had been the messenger at the time, had merely shrugged and repeated herself, saying she was just doing as Hermione wished. It made the blonde French witch wish that she had such good friends.
Adrienne had once been that good friend, but now the problem lay with her, and Fleur found that she had no one to confide in. Strangely enough, she soon found herself chatting to that Ginny Weasley more and more frequently. Never had she thought that she would find a good friend, a confidant, in the red-haired girl. But over the course of a month Ginny turned out to be pleasant company, and also a reliable source from whom Fleur would constantly pester for more information on Hermione and how the girl was doing. Not that that was the basis of this strange friendship they had forged; it had just been the original cause of the friendship… Now it was safe to say that they were truly friends, if nothing else.
As more weeks passed and April approached, Fleur found herself opening up more and more to Ginny. For the most part the conversations the two of them had been having for the past few months were unsurprisingly mainly centered on none other than Hermione, and very seldom did they graze upon another topic. But Fleur found that lately, she shared more and more of what was going on in her life. She didn't tell Ginny of how much she missed Hermione, as she didn't want to bore the girl, and neither did she tell her of her steadily-declining grades. She hadn't wanted Ginny to think she was asking for pity, because she wasn't.
She just wanted to see Hermione.
Was that too much to ask?
Madame Maxime had told her quite clearly that she was to forget about the brunette; after all, a certain pretty blonde-haired girl had her eye on her, and they made quite a lovely match. "Perhaps you two could just date for a little while, to get your mind off things." But Fleur didn't want Adrienne. Not even for a few days. She didn't and couldn't care for the girl in that way – not when Hermione was there, invading her mind and occupying her every thought. Perhaps she couldn't ever care. When Fleur asked why Hermione had been hers to save and not Krum's, Madame Maxime had simply said, "She is the one we – the judges - thought you would miss the most. And we were right, are we not, dear Fleur? Even now, with your marks at risk, you refuse to love any other than her." The headmistress had smiled slightly, and continued, "Or maybe you cannot love any other than her."
Fleur had frowned, although Madame Maxime had looked appraisingly at her. And it was interesting to note that since then, Madame Maxime hadn't bothered her about the situation concerning Hermione. Perhaps her headmistress was truly proud of her – something that, while it had just been a guess, caused Fleur to feel pride, as well as a bit of joy, herself. But perhaps that was because out of the entire Beauxbatons delegation, only Madame Maxime seemed to approve, in that strange way of hers, of Fleur's love interest.
Fleur never did stop trying to talk to Hermione, of course. She still tried to pull her over when she saw her, but time and time again something got in the way. Once Professor Snape had even called her back, warning her that if she kept this up he would have no choice but to ask her to drop the course. Advanced Potions was a serious subject, after all, and he pointedly told her that she could daydream at any other time. That day she missed Hermione as the brunette walked from Defense Against the Dark Arts to dinner, but it was from then on that Fleur started thinking more seriously about her academic performance.
"Evening, Fleur."
Fleur looked up as she was addressed and saw Cho smiling at her. She took the seat next to the Chinese witch, giving a smile of her own as she reached over for a bit of food. Cho Chang was another person that Fleur had gotten to know relatively well in the past few months – she shared a few classes with her, and occasionally they were seen in each other's company. They were by far not the best of friends, though Fleur thought Cho was always good company.
"How were classes today?"
"Zey went well," Fleur replied, swallowing a spoonful of soup. "Professeur Snape told me zat if I do not work 'arder, 'e will throw me out of potions." She betrayed none of her thoughts on the matter, though deep inside she would've withered if such a thing were ever to happen. Despite the Potions Professor's cold and callous manner, Fleur couldn't help but enjoy the subject – it had been one of her favourites ever since she started schooling.
"That's terrible. He can't do that, can he?" Cho asked. Fleur only sighed. "But you are in seventh year Advanced Potions. It's hard work. I'm having trouble, and I'm only in fifth year…"
Fleur smiled kindly; she knew Cho was trying to reassure her, but she knew why her marks were declining – it had nothing to do with how difficult the subject was… Like Professor Snape had implied, her mind had just been wandering during class. And it was hard for her even now to stop herself from searching the Gryffindor table again (the second time that evening), looking for those familiar brown, bushy locks. When she found them, she only allowed herself a moment or two to gaze at the girl, before turning back to her food.
Why did it have to be so hard?
Ginny knew how Fleur felt, of course. The French witch had never actually said much about Hermione; aside from asking about the girl almost every single day, Fleur had never said anything else about the brunette, save for the occasional compliment that Ginny felt she was holding back from giving. The French girl had never said anything about how much she missed the Gryffindor girl, or that what she wanted, more than anything else in the whole wide world, was just to be with Hermione again. But she didn't need to. Because it was so obvious. Anyone could see the longing, loving look that appeared in Fleur's eyes whenever she stared at Hermione, and anyone could hear the way the French witch's voice would lift ever so slightly when asking about the bushy-haired brunette.
Maybe Hermione was oblivious to it – maybe she forced herself to be oblivious to it, but Ginny wasn't... And the third-year Gryffindor girl had just about had enough of this silliness on her good friend's part. Two months was plenty to hold a grudge. So couldn't Hermione just let it go? If it had been anybody else, Ginny would've agreed – just let the bloody fool die for ever treating Hermione that way – but this was Fleur Delacour. Fleur Delacour, who quite obviously was in love with Hermione Granger. And there was also Hermione Granger herself, who quite obviously was also still in love with Fleur Delacour. They made a perfect match, if only they could have better timing - or perhaps if they could simply stop fighting.
Right now, sitting at the Gryffindor table and helping herself to dinner, Ginny thought Fleur might be scanning the table for Hermione (Ginny noticed this habit a few weeks ago), and sure enough, when she looked up, there Fleur was, staring unabashedly at Hermione. When she met the French witch's eyes, a smile was exchanged. And then Fleur turned back to her meal. Setting her knife and fork down, Ginny turned to her right, addressing Hermione, "Why don't you just talk to her?"
A tense silence fell upon their section of the table. Everything else around them all seemed to grow louder with each passing second, and Hermione thought she could hear her heartbeat in her ears. She gripped her fork tightly, frowning slightly when she noticed Ron stop eating to exchange a nervous glance with Harry. Both of them seemed to be trying to catch Ginny's eye, though the girl seemed determined in not looking their way. Hermione chewed on her food, taking her time but knowing that she wouldn't grace the question with a response.
Ginny sighed and repeated herself, ignoring the now-frantic looks the two boys were sending her way, trying to tell her to shut up and leave the matter be. The three of them knew that nothing good would come of bringing up the subject of Miss Fleur Delacour, and that it would only serve to worsen Hermione's mood – so it had always been a silent agreement among them all to avoid the subject like the plague. It was taboo to even think of the French witch, and talking about her was definitely out of the question. But Ginny was sure that Harry and Ron were as sick of Hermione's sulky behaviour of late, but as they were too bloody cowardly to do anything about it, then she would.
After all, it would be for the betterment of them all if they solved this once and for all.
So she waited.
And waited.
And finally, Hermione spoke, "I don't know what you're on about." She said this stubbornly and with force, as though that was all she had to say on the matter, and as though no one should question her any further about it.
No such luck, though.
"Hermione, come off it," Ginny began sternly, "You can't be that daft."
"Honestly-" Harry added, supporting the red-haired girl, "-you must know who she's talking about."
Hermione glared at Harry reproachfully, and he only shrugged nonchalantly.
"You can't not know," Ron chimed in – something that surprised Ginny even more, for she'd thought her older brother was too busy drooling over Fleur to notice their conversation. She couldn't help but smile as Ron went on, "You guys are becoming as bad as a history lesson. I mean, really… There's 'The Fight with Fleur, Part One'; that happened sometime in – I dunno – December, of '94." Hermione glared again, but that seemed only to spur Ron on. "And then there's 'The Fight with Fleur, Part Two,' probably sometime in January… and then 'Part Three' in February! Come to think of it, you two are even worse than the bloody Goblin Wars!"
Harry and Ginny burst out into laughter at this, and Ron allowed a small chuckle as well. Perhaps it was so funny because it was so true. Hermione, however, failed to, or perhaps refused to, see the humour in the situation and folded her arms across her chest in a very cross manner. She frowned at her friends, her lips curving down into an unhappy pout. How could they? They were her friends – they were supposed to back her up, no matter what! She couldn't believe Fleur had turned them against her – the sheer nerve the girl had! Her frown deepened and she continued glaring at the three of them until they calmed themselves down.
"You know," Ginny began seriously and a little thoughtfully as the laughs subsided. Hermione thought the girl's voice also sounded a tad tense as though she might be afraid of Hermione's reaction. When the brunette said nothing, Ginny continued on, "She really does miss you." Still nothing from Hermione. "Why don't you just hear her out? I really, really don't think she was trying to snog her…"
This last comment seemed to strike a nerve, as Hermione snapped her gaze to her friend and said, "I know what I saw – and she and her friend were looking cozy… I don't need to hear her out." Her gaze was cold now. "And since when are you helping her out, anyway? Gone over to her side, have you?" She steeled herself for Ginny's response; silence once again claimed them… and Ginny looked rather mad.
"Don't be stupid," the red-haired girl snapped in reply. "All I was saying was, why don't you just give her a chance? I don't-"
"Maybe you should just get together with her," Hermione suggested irritably, "And stop bothering me about her for once. I never wanted your thoughts on the matter anyway." The last bit was rude and uncalled for, but the brunette tried it anyway… She didn't know what the matter with her was, but she didn't like it. Immediately, she looked at Ginny apologetically, "Ginny, I'm-"
"Fine," Ginny cut off her apology. "I will."
Hermione watched as the redhead got up and headed over to the Ravenclaw table, tapping Fleur on the shoulder. Her chocolate gaze followed the two as they headed for the Entrance Hall, and a deep scowl formed on her face. Her eyes fell back onto her food and she stabbed moodily at it, not noticing the glances Harry and Ron were sending each other. Will what? What was Ginny going to do? Hermione didn't know, but she had a sneaking suspicion she wouldn't like it. What if Ginny had taken her advice and was doing something with Fleur? After a few long minutes she stood abruptly, deciding to act instead of wondering what in the world was going on, and without excusing herself, she left the table.
Hermione didn't know what to expect when she entered the Entrance Hall. Part of her had been afraid that Ginny had truly taken her advice, and had ridden off into the sunset with Fleur – well, perhaps not quite that, but Hermione had been afraid that she would find Ginny and Fleur snogging each other. To her utmost surprise, when she strode out, she found Ginny and Fleur in deep conversation with each other. Something much better than what she had been expecting, although now she wasn't sure how to act. It was so much easier just to get mad at Fleur, or get mad at Ginny. But for the moment neither Fleur nor Ginny seemed to notice her presence, and so she stood there silently, her mind working quickly as she calculated what she could do. She looked from Fleur to Ginny, and then from Ginny to Fleur, opening and closing her mouth soundlessly.
"Hermione."
Fleur was the first to speak when she noticed the brunette, and Hermione felt a rush of warmth at the sound of her name flowing from the French girl's lips. Unknowingly, a smile came to settle on her face, and she looked directly into Fleur's eyes. They were so blue – unbelievably so, in fact. And they seemed to sparkle in delight… Must have been something Ginny said. A slight twinge of something uneasy hit her as she wondered what it was that the red-haired girl had said to make Fleur so… cheerful. Hermione had to tear her gaze from the other girl's, and she bit her lip. She turned to Ginny with a frown, which was soon replaced by a helpless look, and Ginny only grinned as she walked back into the Great Hall. Hermione stared after the girl, her mouth hanging wide open – though only for a brief moment, because she quickly shut it again, clearing her throat as quietly as possible.
Trapped! That was what she was; she hadn't wanted to be here at all – not really, anyway - but then Ginny had baited her into leaving her dinner and coming to see where she and Fleur had run off to… And now she was stuck here with Fleur. She couldn't believe she'd fallen for it.
"Can I speak with you, Hermione?"
Fleur sounded hesitant, and Hermione instantly felt like running over to the girl and hugging her, holding her tightly in her arms… She felt like telling her that none of it mattered, and if they could just start over so they wouldn't be as bad as the Goblin Wars… She took a step forward and nodded slowly, and when Fleur didn't carry on, she tried her luck and took another step forward. Then another. And another… And before she knew it, she was standing right before the French girl, standing so close that if she just reached an arm out, she could touch her dream… And she started to do so, her heart pounding wildly in her chest. She was so close…
"Fleur!"
She dropped her hand quickly, and spun around to see her. Fleur's best friend. She scowled, and only deepened her scowl when she saw the other girl frowning at her. She glanced at Fleur briefly, and noticed that the platinum-blonde witch didn't seem too pleased with the interruption, either. But the moment was lost, and the brunette suddenly didn't feel very warm towards Fleur anymore. Muttering that she had to go, she took off in the direction of Gryffindor Tower, trying her best to ignore Fleur's voice as she exhaled what Hermione was sure was a French curseword. But whether it was really directed at her (and she was sure it was) or not (she didn't think it was for Fleur's best friend), she hurried on, trying not to let the tears fall.
She wouldn't cry for Fleur again.
Fleur heard her name being called out, and watched as Hermione's hand fell limply to her side again. With a slight frown she turned to see Adrienne, heading towards them quickly. The girl had frowned at her – or maybe she was frowning at Hermione – but before Fleur could tell her to go away (yes, even Fleur would have been that blunt; she did not appreciate others trying to cut into her Hermione time, especially since she had hardly spent any time at all with the brunette since their last quarrel), Hermione was already giving an excuse and hurrying away.
Fleur watched as Hermione ran off, cursing loudly in frustration. She knew Hermione had almost kissed her; she could feel it in her being. Her body tingled in anticipation; it still was. Except that she wasn't getting a kiss from the one person she wanted it most from. Not tonight, and quite possibly not ever. Not at the rate they were going. She closed her eyes and ran a hand through her hair as she breathed an upset sigh. Why couldn't things go well for her, just for once? It would make a nice change, and fewer people would have to put up with her sad face everyday – she knew her friends were getting tired of it, as she'd overheard them one day at lunch. Whirling around now to face Adrienne, a nasty look came to her face as she rounded on the girl, "What's the problem now, Adrienne? Couldn't it wait?" She didn't even try to hold her anger back this time as she lashed out at her. "Why can't you be happy for me? Is it really that difficult a thing for you to do?"
Adrienne looked as though she might retaliate, but finally she seemed to have lost the courage to do so and merely responded, "Madame Maxime is looking for you." She looked back at Fleur, considering, a hurt look in her eyes. But then she pointed towards the main doors – signaling that their headmistress was expecting Fleur in the carriage located outside, gave Fleur a final sharp look, and then left.
Leaving Fleur feeling very guilty indeed. She didn't know if Adrienne had meant to stumble upon Fleur and Hermione, but whatever the case, the French witch didn't know what to do now. She couldn't keep having Adrienne bursting onto the scene like this; somehow, the other Beauxbatons witch always managed to interrupt a private moment she and Hermione were sharing. Fleur couldn't tell if it was at all purposeful on the other girl's part, but regardless, the blonde French witch didn't appreciate it in the slightest. After all, it was hard going without Hermione for the past few months, and just when she was so close to making up with the girl, the chance had been snatched away. What she felt at this moment was much worse than what she'd been feeling the past few months. If only Adrienne could've waited just a moment or two longer…
Fleur sighed, refusing to acknowledge her anger at her friend as she turned towards the front doors, deciding she might as well head over to the carriage to see what her headmistress wanted. But as she placed a hand on the cool oaken door and began to push it open (or rather, the door began to open itself), she stopped. The warm inside air rushed out, and Fleur was met with a cold gust that blew past her and into the empty entrance hall. She stood there for a minute longer, before abruptly turning around and dashing off, right past the doors to the Great Hall and on towards the staircase, where she had last seen Hermione before the girl had disappeared from sight.
She ran like this for a few minutes through the hallways before finally catching up with Hermione just in time to see the girl standing in front of the portrait that led, when it swung open, to the Gryffindor Common Room. She was inwardly glad that she'd waited for Hermione down here so many times that she knew the way to the portrait, and was even more thankful that the girl hadn't yet entered her common room – otherwise there'd be no catching up with her then. But she seemed to have spoken too soon, for before she could call out to the girl, Hermione had disappeared behind the portrait.
Fleur let out a sigh of exasperation, before slumping against the wall and shaking her head, before making her way back down to the Beauxbatons carriage. At least someone was waiting for her there.
Time flew by quickly from that evening on, and before anyone could stop it, June the twenty-fourth had arrived. The whole school was busy studying for and taking exams the week before, and now they only had to sit their very last exam before they were free to go – watch the last Task of the Triwizard Tournament, and just run amuck on the grounds before dinner, or whatever they wished to do. Fleur and the three other champions were, of course, exempt from having to take any exams; they had all the time they needed now to prepare for the task that lay ahead, and so there would not be any excuse for their not doing well.
And since Fleur had no distractions, she put her mind and body into practicing hard for this upcoming task. She taught herself many spells, many more than she would have learned in class, and made sure they were all of a different variety so that she would be better-prepared for the task. She didn't know what she might or might not need, after all. She had also found the Four-Point Spell, something she thought she was very lucky to find, for it pointed north, and she could figure out where she was going from there. She had constantly been in the library for the past few weeks, and a small part of her had hoped to catch sight of Hermione, but the girl was always to be seen with either Harry or Ron, most times both of them, and Fleur never had a chance to go over and say a quick "hi." Especially not since Hermione seemed so intent on ignoring her.
Fleur sat at the table the morning of the Third Task, wishing Cho and her Ravenclaw friends good luck on their exams, and finishing her breakfast after they'd all left the hall. Then, putting down her fork, she stood and joined Cedric by the side chamber, wondering when the door would open – or if it wasn't locked in the first place – and so she placed a hand on the door handle and turned. And it swung open. She raised a brow at Cedric, who only laughed and shook his head – which caused her to laugh – and they both headed in.
"Fleur!"
"Maman," Fleur smiled, giving her mother a quick hug before turning to her little sister and giving her a tight hug as well. Gabrielle then returned to her mother's side, holding onto her hand as Fleur conversed with both of them, telling them of what she had been doing lately. Of course, Gabrielle already knew all of this, but Fleur was doing this so their mother could be in the loop as well. While she was talking, her eyes wandered and fell upon Cedric and his family, and then Krum and his parents, and finally Harry Potter and two red-haired people (they must have been related to Ginny and Ronald, Fleur guessed); one a woman, the other a man. She raised a brow in interest; the man was quite attractive, and he had the most interesting earring…
Pity she wasn't interested.
She smiled at Harry, who smiled back at her. At least Hermione's friends weren't mad at her anymore; she didn't know if it was Ginny or Hermione who told them what had happened that evening she and Hermione had "spoken," but Fleur was simply glad they were on speaking terms. Actually, it had been Ginny who helped Fleur prepare for the task during her free time; the younger girl said she did not really mind, and since Harry was getting help from Hermione and Ron, she might just as well help Fleur. Fleur was very grateful for the girl's help, and hoped she could repay the younger girl by doing well in the task. She might be second overall, but if she came out last in the task, she could very well drop to last place.
And the ever-competitive Fleur was not going to let that happen.
That evening, shortly before dinner, Fleur decided to try her luck and so she headed for the library. But no one was there; she supposed it was because exams were over at last, and there was no need for anyone to be there. So she set off for Gryffindor Tower, and surprisingly, the very person she was looking for was standing right in front of the portrait that led to the Gryffindor common room. She grinned slightly at the sight of Hermione and called to the girl, her voice echoing through the corridor. She watched as Hermione turned stiffly to regard her, giving her a brief nod of the head in acknowledgement before turning back to the portrait.
Fleur felt stung, even though she knew she deserved the treatment she was getting, but when she drew nearer she saw the reason why Hermione hadn't given too much thought to her; the girl was in what was getting to be a heated discussion with the Fat Lady. Both of them were talking rather animatedly, though Hermione did seem quite a bit more cross than the Fat Lady did; in fact, the portrait seemed none too concerned with Hermione's plight.
"My dear, the password has been changed."
"What do you mean, 'the password's been changed'?" Hermione replied, her voice rising a notch higher with every word. She turned briefly to Fleur, then back to the Fat Lady, "No one told me about this." She looked very agitated at this point; her evening was taking a turn downhill; she had been rather relieved to be done with her exams, but now she was absolutely worried for Harry (as well as grudgingly worried for Fleur), and to top it all off she wasn't allowed into her common room! This, frankly, was unbelievable! She glared at the Fat Lady, who only told her to go find a prefect and ask him or her for the new password, and then slumped against the wall. She wasn't going to go run after some prefect she didn't even know; she would just wait until one of her friends, or perhaps another Gryffindor, arrived, and then go in with them.
The only major flaw in this plan was that she was assuming that anyone was going to come up to the common room at all, or that anyone was going to be inside. She knew most Gryffindors were already down in the Great Hall, ready to start eating, and then right after that they would all most likely go straight to the Quidditch Pitch to watch the Third Task. Plus, Fleur was also here – so that meant that she would have to make pleasant conversation with the girl, and she wasn't sure she was ready to do that yet. But if the French witch was quiet, she could bear it… She just hoped that the girl would actually keep her silence – something that was rather unlikely, as it seemed the reason the girl was here in the first place was to explain. She bristled inwardly; why couldn't anyone leave her alone for a few minutes? She didn't want to hear any explanations. Not from Ginny (who had been trying to get her to listen), and not from Fleur.
"Hermione?"
Fleur's voice was questioning, and the fragility in it caused Hermione to look up and meet those deep cerulean blues. Her breath caught and she found herself staring at the French witch openly, her gaze wandering from the other girl's eyes to the slight swell in her chest and then to her legs… and then back up again. She shook herself inwardly, forcing her attention onto the matter at hand. She sent Fleur a questioning glance before resolvedly looking back down at the tan stone floors.
"You will not even look at me?"
This time a hint of sadness was in the French witch's voice, mixed in with a bit of impatience. Hermione fought the urge to look at Fleur; if she did again, her eyes would wander again, and only Merlin knew what would happen then. Fleur would have her wrapped around her finger, and anything the French witch desired, well, Hermione would be sure to give to her. And that frightened Hermione; she didn't enjoy the feeling of giving herself completely over. She had done it before, and nothing good had come of it. So she was determined not to do it again.
"It 'as been months, Hermione," Fleur continued, letting her pain show in her voice. She ran her tongue over her lips and looked sadly in the Gryffindor's direction, not sure what else she could say. She took a step forward, wincing visibly as Hermione shrank further away. A few moments of silence passed between them, and then she went on slowly, "I do not know what to say to you anymore." She turned away. "All zat I 'ave ever 'ad to tell you, I 'ave." And since there was nothing more to be added, Fleur turned to leave.
"Oh, that's rich."
Fleur stopped in her tracks as Hermione spoke.
"You think this is easy for me, Fleur? It's not."
"It is not easy for me eezer (either), Hermione. You will not speak to me, and you will not look at me…" Fleur replied, turning around to face the girl and giving a sigh, "I did not kiss her. Nothing 'appened zat night, Hermione. You 'ave to believe me." She looked at Hermione pleadingly, watching as the girl thought about what she'd said, and restraining herself from stepping forward (though it took all of her strength to do so). She didn't want Hermione to retreat further away from her again.
"I believe you," Hermione finally whispered, but when Fleur's eyes lit up and the French witch made to come forward, Hermione took a step to one side, sliding further back along the wall. Fleur stopped, hurt evident in her eyes, and after a long moment, the brunette slowly said, "But I can't be with you again." It hurt her too much, and she didn't want to have to go through it again.
Neither Fleur nor Hermione were aware of the wail of despair the Fat Lady gave at those words; they were far too focused on each other and their respective reactions to this new piece of information Hermione had thrown out. Fleur looked fiercely at Hermione, and said, "Zat is… conneries – 'ow do you English say - bullshit." A pause. "Is it because you cannot, or is it because you do not want to?" The question hung in the air. "You could at least 'ave told me zat you do not care for me anymore." Hermione opened her mouth to protest, and Fleur added challengingly, "No? Then what is ze problem?" The brunette didn't give an answer. "Well, maybe you were right, non? You cannot be with me – you are not even brave enough to tell me why. You Gryffindors are all talk," Fleur's eyes flashed in what could have been anger; she felt she did deserve a reason as to why Hermione couldn't be with her, and she turned away, her footsteps echoing down the hallway, accompanied by the quiet sobs of the Fat Lady, who was shaking her head and muttering, "So sad, so sad…"
The Third Task was to begin at dusk, and Fleur felt the butterflies flutter in the pit of her stomach as Professor Dumbledore led the champions out to what apparently had been the Quidditch Pitch, but was now converted into a large maze with tall hedges. A mere five minutes later, the stands that surrounded them began to fill with people, and Fleur caught sight of little Gabrielle waving at her. She waved back with a small smile, then turned her attention to the professors as they approached. One of them – who Fleur saw to be Professor McGonagall – spoke up, telling them that the staff would be patrolling outside the maze should one of them run into trouble. So if they just sent off red sparks with their wands, then someone would be on the way to help them shortly.
Everyone nodded to show they understood.
Ludo Bagman sent the staff who would be patrolling around the maze off, and then pointed his wand at his throat, muttering what Fleur guessed could be the Sonorus charm (she wasn't standing close enough to hear), and sure enough, when he next spoke, his voice boomed into the stands, "Ladies and gentlemen, the third and final task of the Triwizard Tournament is about to begin! Let me remind you how the points currently stand…"
Fleur stopped paying attention and looked up into the stands instead, where there was a loud cheering coming from the crowd as each champion was named. Fleur could just make out the forms of Ginny and Hermione (her heart did a little flippy-floppy thing as she saw the brunette, then she reminded herself she wasn't to be feeling such things anymore for the other girl) – not to forget Ron, of course; she supposed they had been allowed to sit this close because Harry was participating in the tournament. She scanned the stand some more, and her eyes came to rest on Gabrielle and her mother. Gabrielle spotted her and waved excitedly and Fleur waved back in response.
Only when she heard her name being announced with a blow of the whistle – "And next off, Miss Fleur Delacour!" – did she jump slightly and hurry forward.
It was dark in the maze; the darkness even seemed to block out the cheering sounds coming from the crowd outside, and Fleur drew her wand, muttering, "Lumos" as she did so and watching as the light kept away the shadows. She stepped forward slowly, and when she reached a fork in the path she immediately took the left one; best not to think too much about a simple issue. She held her wand out as far as she could so she could try and see where she was going, but it was no use. It seemed that she'd only see things right before she knocked into them; something that didn't comfort her in the slightest.
As she pressed on, she heard Bagman's whistle blow once, and then twice, and knew that all of the champions were in the maze. The hair on the back of her neck rose as she approached the next fork, and she raised her wand warily, looking as far in front as she could but seeing nothing; the beam of light the wand cast only showed a long pathway that certainly seemed empty, and when she tried the other path, she ended up with the same result.
She picked the rightmost fork this time, and just as she turned a corner, a loud noise caused her to stop. She cautiously made her way around the corner, noticing that the ground was steadily growing more muddy and brown, but a confused look came to her face as she saw only a plank of wood that ran the width of the path that was in the way. How strange. Still wary, she approached, but when the wooden plank didn't show any signs of movement, she drew closer. There wasn't any way of her not stepping or jumping over it; the plank was rather wide as well, and she knew she would just have to step on it. But when she did, it moved, and something – its mouth, she reasoned – opened to reveal a row of sharp, white teeth. It got a hold of her ankle, and she pulled it away quickly, crying out as its teeth raked across her flesh and its jaws snapped shut on only her shoe. She was glad that that hadn't been her foot that the creature had snapped down on, and stumbled backwards a few steps. Then pointing her wand to the creature, she yelled, "Petrificus Totalus!"
Fleur hurried over the creature, which had frozen in its place, and made her way on, ignoring the blood that trickled down her leg and the pain that seared through it as she put her weight on it. The ground slowly lost its muddiness and she paused and took her muddy and bloody sock off, tossing it aside, before walking on. She didn't encounter anything of too much trouble for a while – just a hippogriff she had to get past (which wasn't hard; she just bowed), and a rather mischievous Doxy. Silence surrounded her once again as she left the Stunned Doxy behind, but it wasn't long before she heard sounds of spells being fired.
She didn't pay it any heed until she heard a strangled yell – was it Krum? – at which point she picked up her pace and headed the way the sounds were coming from. She soon found the source of the noise, and was most surprised when she saw who Krum (it had indeed been him) was dueling. It wasn't a creature; it was a professor. Her Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, to be exact. Was this part of the task? She hadn't known that professors would be placed in the maze; how unusual. Spells were bouncing back and forth, and Fleur tried to dodge them as she joined in the fray – on Krum's side, of course, as it seemed utterly pointless to try and help the professor.
"Vat- Floor-" Krum was referring to her, of course, as he dodged a particularly dark red bolt of light, "Go! He is trying to att-"
"Crucio!"
Fleur gasped as Krum's strangled screams filled the air. Unforgivable Curses were not allowed… Didn't the professor know that? She shakily pointed her wand at the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, calling out, "Expelliarmus!" Luckily, the spell hit him fully in the chest, and he was blasted backwards, his wand clattering to the ground not a few feet away from him.
Krum still lay on the ground, fidgeting, but Fleur didn't have time to run over to him for as soon as Professor Moody had hit the ground, he was back on his feet again – this time with his wand pointing directly at Fleur. "Annoying little girl," he spat, and Fleur raised her wand to throw another hex at him. "Your stupid spells are no match for mine." Before Fleur could even think of another incantation, she heard, "Crucio!"
And suddenly her entire body was in pain. She could hear screaming somewhere, but she wasn't sure if that was her own voice, or maybe it was Krum's… The pain was so intense that she thought her mind was on fire, and she just wanted it to end. Her leg was hurting so much more than before, and this time it was a different kind of hurt – but added to the pain she was already in, she wanted to cry out in anguish, but for some reason she didn't think she could. And there was that loud crying noise in the back of her mind; she couldn't understand why it was still there, but didn't bother to. Her mind was swimming, her limbs felt as though they might fall off anytime soon… And as soon as it had come, the pain disappeared. She panted from where she was, curling into a ball, not even wondering when it was that she had fallen to the ground in a heap. The sinister voice addressed her again, and she hated the gruff, cold tones coming from the professor's lips. She wanted to raise her wand and strike him, but her wand was nowhere to be found.
And where was Krum?
"Quite impressive," the voice said. "I never would've thought you, Miss Delacour, would withstand the curse much longer than Mr. Krum here…" She saw a jet of red sparks shoot from the tip of the wand in the professor's hand – her wand, she suddenly realized as she got a better look at it. She pulled herself to her feet, only to have the professor make a strange slashing move with it, one she had never seen or heard of before, and instantly a sharp, hot pain erupted in her side. She looked down to her burning torso to see a line of blood staining her pale blue shirt. She wondered how in the world that would come off, and if her mother could remove it with a simple cleaning spell. And before she could do any more, or think any more, she was shoved backwards forcefully, and saw only a blurry stub that she took to be a wand pointed in her direction, before an incantation was muttered…
… And then all was black.
Outside the maze a warm breeze blew, ruffling cloaks and hair. Girls, boys, and staff members alike all kept their eyes on the maze – though aside from the four teachers who patrolled the surroundings, no one could see anything that went on down in the maze. The green hedges were far too high and concealed the champions well, and in addition to that an unusual sort of fog had settled on the area, shrouding most of the pathways in a light mist and making it difficult for anyone to see what was going on. Hermione, from where she was seated, wondered if the champions could see where they were going in that mist; it was sure to cloud their vision. And even then, would they even notice? For it seemed rather dark in there as well…
She sighed and glanced over at Ginny and Ron, and then at Mrs. Weasley. The three of them seemed rather on-edge – undoubtedly they were worried about Harry – and, Hermione thought with a considerable amount of jealousy, in Ginny's case, the red-haired girl was certainly worrying for Fleur as well. Logically, Hermione knew nothing could possibly go wrong. There were four perfectly able-bodied professors patrolling the outside of the maze, and if one of the champions got into a spot of trouble, they could simply send up some sort of help signal, if that was allowed – she didn't know. But something nagged at her on the inside, and she couldn't help but worry as well. She just hoped Harry would get out of there soon.
The chattering that had descended on the crowd as soon as the last champion had been sent off suddenly rose to a loud roar, and as Ginny laid an arm on Hermione, pointing towards the maze animatedly, the brunette turned and saw a jet of sparks hovering over one spot in the maze. Not a few minutes later, another set of sparks joined the first one – and those two magically-conjured sparks were in close proximity to one another. Had two of the champions dueled against each other? No, that didn't make sense… One of them would have won the duel if that had happened, and there would only be one jet of sparks, not two. So who were the two fallen champions?
Hermione rose from her seat as most others around her did, trying to see who it was that Professor Flitwick was levitating back. The figure suspended in the air was much larger than the short Charms professor, and if Hermione hadn't known any better, she would have laughed. But as it went, this was not the time to find any such thing amusing, and so she watched as Viktor Krum was laid down on the ground. Around her, students and adults alike were all chattering, and Hermione glanced to her right as Professor McGonagall came out from the maze, and with her was a very familiar figure that made Hermione's heart drop.
No… It couldn't be… But it had to be.
In an instant the brunette was down at the entrance of the maze, barely aware of the protests of Professors McGonagall and Flitwick, as she fell to her knees next to the blonde girl's still form, her arms already on her shoulders, and trying to shake the life into the unmoving girl. Nothing happened, and Hermione shook again, her eyes welling up. Not now; Fleur couldn't leave her just yet… She wasn't done with her yet! Shaking the platinum-haired witch once more, Hermione cried, "Fleur…? Don't die, don't die… Please?" She was not paying any attention to the loud murmurs of the crowd behind her as they scrutinized this strange scene. Nor was she paying any heed to the teachers that had, after helping Krum (who was now being tended to by Madam Pomfrey), all gathered around her. She didn't notice Fleur's sister and mother hovering worriedly over her as well. "I love you, I really do, please come back…"
"Miss Granger?"
Hermione paid this voice no mind – it was Professor Dumbledore – and instead she hugged the girl to her tightly, not minding the cold sweat on the other girl, nor the mud that was caked onto her stiff form.
"Miss Granger," Dumbledore repeated, this time a bit more sternly - though he never once showed any sign of losing patience with Hermione. "I assure you, Miss Delacour is not dead. Just Stunned, I believe."
Hermione let go of Fleur abruptly, and the girl dropped to the ground with a soft thump – which caused Hermione to wince. Oops.
"Oh. Right. Well, then. I take back everything I said."
It wasn't clear if she was talking to Fleur, or to Professor Dumbledore, but even the Headmaster looked exasperated for a moment. Then he leaned over towards Fleur, and tapped her gently on the head with his wand. "Ennervate."
Hermione watched as Fleur's form immediately seemed to relax; yes, it seemed the girl had been Stunned, after all. A feeling of relief washed over her, yet she felt her cheeks start to burn a deep red as she realized how silly she had been to think that Fleur was dead. Of course the girl wasn't dead – nothing like that could ever happen at the Tournament, could it? She suddenly remembered reading on tournaments of previous years, and how champions had died before and felt a little less stupid. But not by much.
She was brought back to earth as Fleur stirred next to her, the French witch's fingers somehow managing to find hers, and twining them together. Hermione looked down, and was startled to find that the girl's eyes were already open and staring right into her chocolate brown ones. The breath caught in her throat like it had done long ago, and there was a brief moment that passed between them – where none of the world mattered, and it was just them – and when it was over, Fleur croaked out, her voice hoarse, "Hermione."
"Fleur," Hermione whispered back, a smile forming on her lips.
"Do you really take back what you said?"
It took Hermione a minute to remember what she had last said, and she smiled sadly and shook her head fiercely. "No," she replied stubbornly and crushed Fleur in a hug. "I meant every word of it." Fleur gave a content sigh and hugged her back gently, but the French witch soon was struggling again, pushing Hermione away. Hermione looked apologetic for a minute, and then said, "Sorry." She'd forgotten that Fleur might need some air to breathe, after whatever it was that she had been through (it looked difficult, and it certainly looked as though she had been in a lot of pain). She had forgotten, simply, that Fleur was actually injured. Her shirt had soaked up some blood, Hermione had noticed, and her leg did not look to be in good shape either. And to top it all off, the girl was covered with mud, especially around her legs.
Funnily enough, one of her shoes was missing.
"What happened to your shoe?" Hermione inquired curiously, reluctantly letting go of Fleur's hand, as Madam Pomfrey helped Fleur to her feet, leading her towards the first-aid station, where Krum was already seated.
Fleur looked wryly at Hermione before she left, her exhaustion evident in her eyes, and then replied, "A dugbog ate it."
A/N: Well, finally done! Sorry for the long wait… Hope you like this; I know it was a lot more of the same angst as before, and I hope the end made it a little better. Thanks for all the reviews, guys! Please keep them coming! Next chapter should be up soon, methinks.