Hey guys! Another update for you, ft the appearance of Hermione's raging hormones XD
I've realised that my problem with other stories is that once I get about ten chapters in I feel a huge rush to get the events over and done with because I'm impatient as hell! Then I end up with stories with normal paces starts and really rushed endings. So! As a useful exercise for myself, I set this entire chapter over the course of only one day lol, we'll see if my pacing gets better.
Let me know what you think.
Disclaimers: 1. This fic is fully Fleurmione- don't panic if they don't get together right away or there are mentions of either of them with other people. Endgame is ALWAYS Fleurmione and I'll always try and sprinkle some Fleurmione tension in amongst it all until that endgame. 2. I don't follow the HP books to the letter. I'm not worried about getting every single detail and date correct, I like tweaking events to fit my fic. I don't depart hugely from the HP world, but I'm not set on having the Tasks on the same dates or anything like that.
Without further ado, Chapter 10!
Hermione awoke dazed the next morning. The morning light wasn't beaming through the curtains surrounding her bed, confusing her. After checking her watch, she confirmed she had barely slept a few hours.
After getting back from the Beauxbatons Carriage, Hermione had fallen right off to sleep. But her dreams had been vivid and intense. Golden eggs, girls with soft skin and silky hair…
They were great dreams. Very great dreams. But the problem was that Hermione had dreamt of girls she knew. Not just Fleur.
Hermione frowned as she leant back against her pillows.
Luna's words rang in Hermione's ears about teenagers being horny idiots. It embarrassed her, really. Since Fleur had awakened her sexuality, Hermione had been cursed with girls on the mind.
She'd dreamt of Fleur that night (which wasn't unusual), Julie, and (though Hermione would never admit it to anyone) Pansy. The result had been waking up feeling frustrated and aroused.
She hated it. Why couldn't she only dream of the girl she had a crush on? She didn't mind as much that she'd enjoyed a more-than-friendly dream about Julie, per se, but Pansy was just ridiculous. She hated the Slytherin girl and everything she stood for. She shut her eyes tightly, trying to forget how much she'd enjoyed Dream-Pansy.
'Is this how the guys have been feeling this whole time when they've been girl-obsessed?!' Hermione thought to herself, bewildered.
She had a couple of hours before she needed to wake up yet. She could read the new Transfiguration book she had got her hands on. That would be a sensible use of her time.
Hermione's hormonal mind rebelled yet again, replaying the moment when Fleur had leaned in and kissed her on the cheek the previous night.
Hermione sighed. If it felt that good to have a pretty girl just kiss her cheek, she couldn't wait until she properly kissed a girl. She was sure Fleur's lips on hers would feel incredible.
She pictured herself back in the Beauxbatons Carriage, standing in front of Fleur in the dim lighting. Reaching forward and tucking Fleur's soft and silky hair behind her ear. Putting her hands on Fleur's small waist and pulling her close. Their lips finally connecting in the culmination of their sexual tension.
Hermione bit her lip. She was beyond frustrated.
She couldn't really take it anymore. A night full of tantalising dreams of Fleur, Julie and Pansy followed by replaying what could have happened with Fleur—it was all too much.
Hermione, blushing, tugged the drawstring of her pyjama pants loose.
Nobody else would be awake and the curtains were tightly drawn around her bed, but Hermione still felt embarrassed at the thought of pleasuring herself in the dormitory.
Fleur's azure eyes flashed through her mind again and self-consciousness went out the window.
Hermione slipped her hand down the front of her pants, biting her lip harder as she touched the source of her discomfort.
She let her mind turn freely to Fleur now. Gods she wanted her. She wanted her held tightly against her, her lips on her, her hands on her…
Hermione stifled a moan as her hand worked, stoking her arousal.
She wondered how intense Fleur's eyes would look in the heat of passion, if her breathing would become uneven or if she would make little noises of pleasure.
Hermione flew higher and higher, riding the pleasure until it reached a sweet crescendo.
Hermione trembled as her head fell back, her mouth falling open in a silent groan of satisfaction.
Almost as soon as she was done, she felt her face burn with embarrassment. She wasn't a horny teenager. She was Hermione Granger; the sensible and reasoned brains of her year. Hermione cringed, trying to push her actions to the back of her mind.
After a cold shower and an attempt at taming her curls, Hermione dressed and headed down to the Common Room. By the time she got down there, much of Gryffindor Tower had awoken. Harry and Ron were just finishing off cups of tea while waiting for Hermione for breakfast.
"So how was it?" Harry asked as Hermione walked up to them.
"How was what?!" Hermione replied, blushing.
"Finding clues on the egg," Harry replied slowly, raising his eyebrows in confusion.
"Oh… Right… Sorry, it was a long night," Hermione sighed, running a hand through her hair. She was exhausted and didn't feel like explaining the debacle of the previous night. "I found some possible ideas… But nothing very promising."
"Oh…" Harry replied, his face falling a little, "Well, I'm sure we'll find something."
The skinny raven-haired boy drained his tea and turned towards the portrait hole. Ron shot Hermione an incredulous look, as if he had expected more, before following Harry.
Hermione felt a pang of irritation. What did they expect? That she would stroll into the library and immediately find the answer to the puzzle? Sometimes she got annoyed that the boys relied on her so heavily to do the grunt work for them. She knew they didn't do it intentionally, but she was doing them a favour by researching things for them and trying to figure out answers to their problems.
She frowned, following the boys out the portrait hole.
Hermione tried to shake her mood as they walked in a swarm of Gryffindors down to the Great Hall. She was feeling off-balance. She wasn't sure what it was exactly: the lack of sleep, the awkwardness over her suggestive dreams and morning self-pleasure, or her best friends taking her for granted.
Either way, she felt like the day was going to be a bit of a struggle.
As the Gryffindors made it into the Great Hall, Hermione felt a gentle tug at her elbow.
She turned around to a cluster of powder-blue silk uniforms and gorgeous girls. Julie had tugged at her arm, though Fleur was standing a little behind her. Fleur's face was aloof, but she was openly watching Hermione. The sight of the blonde made Hermione's heart leap into her throat.
"'Ermione," Julie greeted with a gentle smile.
"Erm, hey," Hermione stumbled over her words, trying to push the insistent memories of her dreams from her mind, "How are you feeling?"
"A little 'ungover," the tall brunette admitted with a sheepish grin, "I won't 'old you up from your breakfast. I just wanted to say zank you for 'elping me last night."
"It was nothing," Hermione said humbly, though her current level of exhaustion begged to differ.
Julie stepped forward, pulling Hermione into a tight hug and kissing her on her cheek. The unexpected close proximity of the girl suddenly brought Hermione's dreams sharply back into focus, and she blushed heavily. Julie was an attractive girl; she couldn't help it.
"I…Um… Er—I'll see you around," Hermione stammered, blushing horribly, as Julie released her. Fleur and Julie's friends tittered, obviously noting how flustered she had become.
Hermione, before dashing away in embarrassment, shot a quick look at Fleur. She had an unreadable expression on her face, but her eyes were stormy. Hermione didn't want to be too hopeful, but she almost thought that Fleur looked a little… jealous.
"Blimey! What was all that about?" Ron asked, as Hermione dropped into a seat at the Gryffindor table.
"Julie just wanted to thank me for a favour is all," Hermione mumbled, glad she could feel the heat in her face fading.
"First Fleur, now copping off with her girlfriend?" Ron exclaimed, his mouth hanging open as he ate, "You could at least introduce me to one of their friends!"
"Yeah, maybe some other time," Hermione said, fully distracted. The morning mail was fluttering in via a flurry of owls. Hermione was using the diversion to steal a glance at Fleur again. She looked so painfully beautiful in the morning light. Hermione wondered if things would improve enough soon for Fleur to resume speaking to her. At the very least, she had seemed conflicted the previous evening. She'd said she hadn't known what to think about Hermione. Which was far better than writing her off as a bad person.
"Merlin, no," Harry groaned, unfurling his Daily Prophet.
"Another Skeeter hatchet job?" Ron asked.
Harry nodded with a frown, turning the paper to show Hermione and Ron the article.
"Harry Potter Out of His Depth?
Harry Potter, 11, is the unlikely Fourth champion in this year's Triwizard Tournament. Unfortunately, it seems like his lack of age and experience may be the undoing of the Boy Who Lived.
Sources in the castle report that Potter has no idea how to even start working out his Golden Egg clue, instead recruiting older and smarter students to try and help him. Could his tragic history have stunted his development? Read more about Potter's emotional struggles at page 8."
Hermione diplomatically took a big spoonful of her cereal. Yes, it was unfair that Skeeter repeatedly portrayed Harry as a First Year, emotionally unstable and woefully inept. But, Harry getting others to try and work out the clue for him wasn't that far off-base. Hermione had just spent a long night cramming for him after his despair spurred her into helping.
Harry was an incredibly gifted and brave boy, but it would be foolish to think that he would even be alive if it wasn't for the help of his friends around him.
Harry was scowling, bemoaning the fact that Skeeter seemed to shave a year off his age each time she reported on him.
Hermione forced herself to nod along. Harry was a great friend, Hermione had to be sure not to let her frustrations at him overflow. Harry never sought out the situations that landed him in need of assistance. He never intended to take Hermione for granted.
Ginny dropped into the seat beside Hermione, immediately grabbing some toast. She glanced at the facial expressions of Harry, Ron and Hermione before looking at the newspaper in Harry's hands.
"Another less than flattering article?" Ginny surmised, cocking an eyebrow.
Hermione was relieved that Ginny had chilled out over the years. In her first and second years at Hogwarts, she had been so utterly besotted with Harry that she couldn't help but be a bashful mess in his presence.
Now, however, her crush had eased enough—or she had found a way to deal with it—that it didn't seem to stop her from being totally at ease around the group of friends.
Hermione had never really thought about it before. But after becoming a stammering mess in front of girls she'd had suggestive dreams about, she was curious as to how Ginny managed to get back her composure.
She briefly considered quietly broaching the subject with Ginny. But the embarrassment was too fresh and the Gryffindor table was too packed with people that would overhear. She filed the conversation in her mind for a later date.
"She just makes me sound so helpless!" Harry complained, folding up the paper violently and tossing it down on the table.
"Well, another article like that and mum's going to be catching the next train up to Hogwarts to look after you!" Ginny grinned.
"She doesn't really believe that rubbish that Skeeter writes, does she?" Hermione asked, surprised. It wasn't like Molly Weasley was an unintelligent woman.
Ron shook his head, frowning.
"She can't help it," Ginny sighed, "She's always been a sucker for a good gossip story."
Ginny gave up conversation at that point, wolfing down her toast as quickly as possible. She'd arrived late to the breakfast table and morning classes were due to start.
As the Gryffindors got up from the table and gathered their book bags, Hermione cast a subtle look over at the Beauxbatons sitting with the Ravenclaws. She was disappointed to see that Fleur had already left.
Hopefully she would have another run-in with Fleur that day that didn't leave her embarrassed.
Harry, Ron and Hermione headed off through the hallways of Hogwarts to their first class of the day; Defence Against the Dark Arts. It was still early in the year, but Hermione wasn't sure she liked the direction that the classes were going in.
Professor Moody—commonly known as Mad-Eye Moody because of his wild magic glass eye—seemed totally unpredictable. Hermione couldn't quite feel settled in his class; almost as if he might do something bad at any moment. She'd shared her thoughts with the boys and they had somewhat agreed. Ron had explained to her and Harry that Mad-Eye had seen some very dark things in the last wizarding war and probably had some serious issues. He was known for flying off the handle and being eccentric.
Hermione didn't relish the class. She especially didn't enjoy that it was one of the classes the Gryffindors shared with the Slytherins.
If she had hoped that it was too early in the morning for the Slytherins to be awful, those hopes were very quickly dashed. No sooner had the trio lined up outside the classroom than Malfoy and his goons showed up, sporting Potter Stinks badges.
Hermione rolled her eyes openly.
"Hey Potter," Malfoy sneered, "Saw your spread in the Prophet this morning. Did the Weasel tuck you up in bed with a nightlight while Granger went to solve the puzzle for you?"
Harry instantly flushed with anger. Hermione supposed it was probably because it was a little close to the truth of what had happened the previous night – Ron reassuring him with a card game while Hermione went in search of clues at the library.
"Beats running to daddy whenever something upsets me at school," Harry retorted. Malfoy narrowed his icy blue eyes at Harry, scowling.
Another insult that would have hit a little close to home.
Harry and Draco Malfoy always knew exactly what buttons to push with each other. Often, Hermione found herself getting dragged into their fights and getting wound up too. But this morning, she was determined not to get baited. She stood a little bit to one side of the boys as they bickered, folding her arms in front of her chest.
"Granger," a sneering voice greeted.
Hermione felt a curious mix of dread, embarrassment and attraction as Pansy Parkinson sashayed in front of her.
Pansy was dressed impeccably as usual, her makeup freshly done and not a hair out of place. She had a hand on one hip and her skirt was short enough to show her long tanned legs.
"Uh—Um—W-What do you want?" Hermione asked, blushing. She couldn't believe she had dreamt of Pansy in such a way. Stupid embarrassing hormones. She couldn't push the memory of her dream out of her mind.
Pansy looked at her, sneer fading a little in favour of a look of puzzlement.
"What's your deal?" Pansy asked, suspicious.
"Nothing!" Hermione insisted, blushing more.
'Stupid, stupid hormones…' Hermione inwardly cursed. Her brain knew that Pansy was a terrible person. If only it could pass that message on to her body and her goddamn raging hormones.
Pansy looked at her for a long time, seeming to size her up. Finally, she smirked again, her eyes seeming to gleam with mischief.
Right on cue, Moody flung the door of the classroom open.
The Slytherins and Gryffindors put their house rivalry aside just long enough to file into the classroom and select their seats.
Hermione, thankfully, got a seat in between Harry and Ron.
Moody shut the door firmly once everyone had their seats. He stood with his back to the class for a moment, uncharacteristically quiet.
Everything about the man was a little terrifying and unsettling. He had mad grey hair that ran wild over his head. As he turned to face them, his clawed false leg clunked on the classroom floor. His pale blue false eye whirled around madly in his head, seeming to look everywhere and nowhere at once.
"Gryffindor and Slytherin!" Moody unexpectedly bellowed, causing many in the room to jump in fright.
He paused for effect, lumbering his way across the room and back to his desk, his false leg clunking on the floor.
He came to a rest in front of his desk, turning to look at the class.
"A rivalry as well known as Cain and Abel," Moody continued in his rough voice.
Hermione wondered where on Earth he was going with this. In previous classes he had flung curses at the students to test their reflexes and defences.
"Perhaps the greatest defensive art to embody rivalry, is the art of duelling," Moody said gruffly, looking around the room to emphasize his point, "I'm interested in seeing how two of the most competitive houses in this school can handle that."
Harry, and several other students, were now leaning forward in their seats in interest.
"I want you to pair off with a member of the opposing Hogwarts house," Moody instructed, "The rest of the lesson will be spent duelling them."
Hermione raised her hand in the air immediately. She ignored some rolling eyes and judgmental looks from those who had fully expected her to raise a question.
"Yes?" Moody asked, fixing both his magical and regular eye on her.
Hermione almost shivered under his unsettling gaze.
"What are the rules, sir?" Hermione asked.
Moody bared his teeth suddenly, which shocked Hermione until she realised it was his form of a grin.
"No death," Moody replied.
"Anything else?" Hermione asked, her brow crinkling in confusion.
Moody shook his head. The Slytherins were instantly fascinated, beginning to mutter amongst themselves at the surprising lack of rules.
"Well, that confirms who I want to duel," Harry muttered under his breath.
Clearly on the same wavelength, Malfoy came and stood in front of Harry's desk, arms crossed tightly across his chest.
Ron got up, immediately going to seek out Crabbe or Goyle in the classroom.
Hermione wasn't sure who she would pick. She was thinking Blaise Zabini would be a good choice. He was the least offensive of the Slytherins and very intelligent. He would be a good test of Hermione's knowledge.
Unfortunately, as soon as she turned around, she realised everyone was pretty much paired up already—except for Pansy Parkinson, who was smirking at her.
Hermione groaned.
The classroom was a little small for the whole class to be duelling at once. This problem was quickly solved by Seamus Finnegan, in true form, blasting out the stone wall of the castle when trying to throw a jinx at Daphne Greengrass.
Mad Eye-Moody rolled with it without batting an eyelash, simply shrugging, saying he would mend it at the end of the class, and encouraging the students to continue their duelling outside.
So, that was how Hermione found herself stalking around one of the Hogwarts gardens, wondering how she had lost sight of Pansy Parkinson.
She'd thrown a clever spell at Parkinson, a swirling mist that would chill Pansy so much she would hopefully struggle to get her wand movements correct. Unfortunately, when the mist cleared, Pansy had disappeared.
Hermione cursed.
She could hear the other students not too far away, shouting out various defensive and offensive spells. She decided to walk towards the other students, thinking that enough time had passed that Pansy had probably just ditched her to mess with her.
Hermione started to walk towards the others, suddenly feeling something clutch around her ankle. Hermione fell heavily to the ground with a gasp.
She heard Pansy's laugh ring out.
"Goddammit, Pansy!" Hermione growled, rolling over.
Pansy had cast a charm on a nearby bush, causing its branch to curl out and grab Hermione around the ankle.
"Too easy," Pansy cackled.
She went to cast another spell at Hermione, but the Gryffindor was too fast. She rolled over quickly, dodging the spell beam. Quickly casting a diffindo at her ankle to free her from the branch's grip, she leapt to her feet.
"You'll have to try better than that to beat me," Hermione retorted.
She flicked a spell at Pansy, one that whipped up the wind to slap an opponent.
It seemed to hit Pansy, as she doubled over, dropping her wand and clapping her hand to her cheek. But then she looked up at Hermione with a grin.
"I know why you were acting weird," Pansy taunted.
Hermione scowled.
"Whatever," Hermione replied defensively, "Expelliarmus!"
The wand that Pansy had just picked up arced out of her hand and into the bushes nearby. Pansy frowned, looking put out, before setting her sights on Hermione.
Hermione didn't even have a chance to defend herself before Pansy tackled her to the ground, trying to wrestle her wand from her.
"Argh! Are you mental?!" Hermione exclaimed, trying to keep her wand out of Pansy's grasp. Pansy was on top of her, bright red lips grinning as she kept attempting to steal Hermione's wand.
"No rules, remember?" Pansy grinned.
"Go get your own wand!" Hermione snapped.
"I've seen that look before… The look on your face before class…" Pansy said between grunts, "On Crabbe and Goyle after I came back from last Summer holidays."
"I don't know what you're on about!" Hermione replied, trying to protect her wand and get out from under Pansy.
"You," Pansy replied, smirking as she grabbed Hermione's wand, "You just realised that I'm hot!"
"I have not!" Hermione snapped. But she felt her cheeks burning a little despite herself.
Pansy finally ripped the wand from her hands, leaping to her feet triumphantly.
Hermione got to her own feet, scowling at the dark-haired Slytherin.
"It's too early in the day for your bullshit," Hermione said waspishly.
Pansy smirked at her.
"The look on your face doesn't lie," Pansy grinned, "Oh, this is going to make beating you in this duel even more delicious."
Hermione glared at her.
Thankfully, mercifully, Mad-Eye Moody's voice boomed out amongst the grounds.
"Fourth Year Students of my Defence Against the Dark Arts Class- please return to the classroom. The lesson is over."
Pansy's grin dimmed a little bit.
"Right when I was so close, too," Pansy said with obvious disappointment, "Accio Pansy Parkinson's wand."
Her own wand returned to her from the bushes. Pansy tossed Hermione's wand back at her before turning and walking back towards the classroom without another word.
Hermione glared at the back of the Slytherin's head as she followed her.
Pansy and Hermione had been highly competitive since their very first year at Hogwarts. They had been constantly trying to one-up each other. Fortunately, until the duel, Hermione had always come out on top.
Her classwork had always shown up Pansy's. Gryffindor had always managed to beat Slytherin in House Points. Heck, she even usually won when they traded barbs in the hallway!
Now, Hermione had not only been bested by Pansy in the no-rules duel; Pansy had completely called her out on her awkwardness.
"Bloody hormones," Hermione muttered darkly.
It was bad enough when she only had to deal with her crush on Fleur. But now she was noticing when other girls around the castle were attractive, it was really becoming irritating.
Pansy looked over her shoulder at Hermione, grinning as she spotted the thunderous look on Hermione's face.
"Enjoying the view?" Pansy teased with a wink.
Hermione scowled further.
Hermione couldn't quite bring herself to explain to Harry and Ron why she was in such a foul mood the rest of the day.
They just assumed she had endured a disastrous duel. They themselves had won their duels against their respective Slytherins and hadn't stopped crowing about it.
Hermione wished they would stop bringing up the cursed lesson, becoming more curt in her replies as the day went on.
Finally, when Ron outright asked her what had happened in her duel with Pansy, Hermione collected her books with a huff and stormed off to the library. She was overreacting, sure. But even the thought of Pansy smugness made her blood boil.
The library was relatively full of students. Hermione noticed with distaste that Viktor was studying by some windows, so half the female population of the castle seemed to have flocked to the tables around him.
Hermione just hoped her usual private spot in the library was still free.
Sure enough, as she rounded through the protective shelves of books that hid her spot, she found the table empty. Hermione threw herself into the seat, sighing heavily. She was dying for some solitude after the day she'd had.
"'Ello 'Ermione,"
Hermione almost groaned with tired frustration as Gabrielle popped out from behind a shelf.
"How are you allowed out after sneaking around last night?" Hermione asked, smiling despite herself. Gabrielle might be quite a pest at times, but she was still adorable.
"Non," Gabrielle answered with a faux-innocent smile, "My tutor and Madame Maxime never found out."
Hermione sighed, still smiling. Gabrielle was just full of trouble. The small blonde was smiling as if butter wouldn't melt in her mouth.
"Fleur didn't seem too happy with you, though," Hermione reminded.
Gabrielle's expression instantly clouded into sulkiness as she crossed her arms tightly across her chest.
"Oui, she is being so overprotective," Gabrielle sulked, "She 'as barely let me out of 'er sight today."
Hermione barely had time to register what Gabrielle had said when the elder Delacour herself emerged from the shelves.
"Zere you are, Gaby," Fleur sighed, looking entirely impatient with her young sister. She looked up at Hermione, azure eyes locking with honey-flecked brown.
"Er, hi," Hermione said awkwardly. She couldn't read Fleur's mood.
"Gabrielle, go look at your books some more, okay?" Fleur said quietly to Gabrielle in French.
Gabrielle simply nodded obediently, obviously wary of her older sister. She tightened the straps of her backpack before bouncing off into the bookshelves.
Hermione swallowed nervously, now alone with Fleur.
Fleur was elegant in her reserved state. Her back was straight and her head held high, her white-blonde hair tumbling down her shoulders. She stepped a little closer to Hermione, her uniform silk blue skirt playing around her toned legs gently. She lifted her black leather book satchel, pulling out a small box with a ribbon bow on the top.
Hermione felt her stomach twist violently. Was Fleur giving her a gift?!
"Did you leave zese at ze Beauxbatons Carriage for me?" Fleur asked, placing the box on the table in front of Hermione and removing the bow-covered lid.
Hermione looked down, seeing that the small gift box was full of strawberries.
"Er, no?" Hermione asked, furrowing her brow and looking up at Fleur in confusion, "Why would I have?"
Fleur's eyes turned stormy again and Hermione wished she was a Legimens. She was curious as to what Fleur was thinking.
"I zought…" Fleur paused and sighed, "A younger student said an 'Ogwarts girl dropped zem off for me. It is not common knowledge zat Veela are especially partial to strawberries. I zought…"
Hermione frowned. Fleur must be afraid she had resumed researching her.
"I threw away everything I had on Veela," Hermione said firmly, "I promise you, I won't be doing anything like that again."
An unreadable expression crossed Fleur's expression in an instant again. She simply nodded, placing the lid back on the box and putting it back in her satchel again.
Fleur turned and began to walk away.
Hermione furrowed her brow, wondering what it all meant. Did Fleur believe her? Who did send the strawberries to Fleur? Was another Hogwarts girl crushing on Fleur?
Fleur seemed to think twice about walking away, halting in her steps and turning back to Hermione. She bit her plump lower lip.
Hermione looked up at her, curious.
"You, ah… You blushed when Julie 'ugged you at breakfast," Fleur commented.
"Er, did I?" Hermione asked, rubbing the back of her neck, embarrassed.
"Why?" Fleur asked. She looked like she was torn between waiting for Hermione's answer and simply walking away.
"I…" Hermione wondered how to answer that honestly without sounding like a creep.
'Well, Fleur, because I'm a horny teenager who gets flustered when any hot girl hugs me unexpectedly right now,' somehow didn't sound right.
"Do you like 'er?" Fleur asked, her blue eyes dropping to the rug-covered floor of the library. She was acting uninterested, but the tone in her voice made Hermione feel like she really needed an answer from her.
"I… She's actually a really lovely girl," Hermione said, playing with her hands, "I do like her, but just as a friend. I don't have feeling for her or anything."
Fleur nodded, a slight smile appearing on her lips before disappearing again.
"Bon," Fleur said, nodding again before turning on her heel and walking away into the bookshelves.
Hermione sighed, looking at her hands, confused. Was Fleur jealous? If so, was she possessive of her friend that she had fooled around with in the past or of Hermione moving on? And who sent Fleur the strawberries?
Hermione shook her head. This was exactly the kind of girl-crazy distraction that had screwed her up in Defence Against the Dark Arts. She needed to push girls out of her mind and focus on more important things going on.
She needed to find out what the Golden Egg meant.
She needed to find out who had put Harry's name in the goblet.
She needed to put her own trivial worries to one side and focus on helping Harry out of another dangerous situation.