A/N: Hey guys! Sorry for the wait. This chapter might be a little rough, work has been flat out lately but I was just really eager to publish this chapter and move on to the next. Thanks for all the reviews!
Chapter 11.
"Hermione, you're a genius, but when it comes to girls, you're denser than Ron,"
Hermione frowned at Ginny, entirely annoyed at being compared to her brother.
"I am not," Hermione sniffed, taking a swig from her butterbeer.
It had been another couple of weeks since her run in with Fleur and the strawberries. Hermione hadn't had much time to dwell on it, spending all of her time not in class trying to work out the Golden Egg for Harry.
Ginny, a little concerned at Hermione being even more intense than usual with her study, had invited her out for a drink at the next Hogsmeade weekend.
Hermione, feeling close to burnout, had begrudgingly accepted without too much pressuring on Ginny's part.
The weather was terrible, skies so dark the afternoon appeared like late evening. Rain poured down heavily from the skies and cold winds whipped mercilessly through rugged up crowds of students.
Hermione and Ginny had selected a seat in the Three Broomsticks that was in a cosy corner, but right beside the window. The windows were so fogged up against the cold outside that they couldn't see anything other than the rain battering the panes of glass.
It had taken a couple of patient rounds of butterbeers, but Ginny had finally got Hermione to talk to her about what was on her mind. Hermione had told the redhead about the night she had helped Julie and Gabrielle back to the carriage, as well as Fleur coming to ask her about the strawberries in the library. Somehow it felt easier talking to Ginny about her crush on Fleur than it did talking to Harry and Ron.
Although, she was quite put out at being called dense.
Ginny laughed, taking a sip from her own butterbeer.
"Hermione, she obviously still likes you," Ginny said, shaking her head.
Hermione frowned.
"You think?" Hermione asked, "I wouldn't think she could ever see me the same way after I ran that research project on her."
Ginny laughed lightly, running a hand through her long red locks.
"Jesus, 'Mione," Ginny chuckled, "It's so obvious. She's clearly torn about the whole thing. Telling you she doesn't know what to think? Asking you if you like Julie? That screams of a girl that has feelings but doesn't know if she can act on them."
"You really think so?" Hermione asked, leaning forward at the table. She felt hopeful for a moment, before shaking her head, "There's just no way she can get past what I did, though. Besides, I need to focus on this Golden Egg clue."
Ginny sighed.
"Really, Hermione? It's Harry's challenge. He can work it out himself. You haven't had a life outside classes and studying his Egg for weeks!" Ginny exclaimed, "Harry and Ron make time to play around and have lives, you need to do the same. You can't just pick up the slack forever."
Hermione frowned.
"If I don't do it, who will, Gin?" Hermione challenged, taking a big gulp of her butterbeer.
She thought it was a bit unfair for Ginny to say that.
"It's Harry's challenge," Ginny repeated, "And you know as well as I do that if he was observant enough to notice how much you're burning yourself out, he would be saying the same thing."
"It's fine," Hermione said defensively, "Besides, I really need the distraction," Hermione added in a mumble.
"You need a distraction?" Ginny asked, furrowing her brow, "Are you okay, 'Mione?"
Hermione picked at the label on her butterbeer, ducking her head. She was a little embarrassed.
"Hermione, something is bothering you, just come out with it," Ginny insisted, shuffling her chair closer to the brunette.
Hermione shook her head, peeling the corner of the label off the butterbeer bottle.
"Hermione, if you don't tell me what's going on, I swear to Merlin—"
"I'm a horny mess!" Hermione blurted loudly.
Heads turned to look at their table, several amused faces amongst them. Hermione blushed deep red, hunching her shoulders and leaning forward on the table in embarrassment.
Ginny, noticeably holding back a laugh, bit her lip.
"Hermione… Wow…" Ginny replied, "What, er, what exactly do you mean by that?"
"Oh jeez," Hermione, reddened and feeling entirely too warm, tried to pull her curls to curtain her face, "I just… I feel like I'm going crazy. Every time an attractive girl gets too close my brain just turns to mush. Every time I fall asleep, I dream about girls. I feel like a gay version of Lavender, for Pete's sake!"
Ginny actually giggled this time.
"Hermione, lots of teenagers feel like that," Ginny replied. It was funny how for once the younger girl was the one lecturing Hermione on something that the brunette was clueless about.
"Well how do I fix it?" Hermione hissed, looking up at Ginny with a quiet desperation.
"I dunno," Ginny shrugged, "Get better at hiding it or find a way to get rid of the frustration before you hit breaking point."
"A way to get rid of the frustration?" Hermione echoed, cocking her head to one side with confusion.
Ginny grinned, raising a hand and waving her fingers. She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively.
"Ginerva Weasley!" Hermione gasped, scandalised.
Ginny suggesting she pleasure herself like some out of control teen boy?! She was Hermione Granger! She still felt guilty about pleasuring herself to the thought of Fleur the other morning.
"Everyone does it," Ginny shrugged, returning to her drink, "Or, you know, you could just find a girl to get with that isn't Fleur."
She'd said the blonde's name with such disgust, Hermione was so surprised that she entirely forgot the indignity of Ginny suggesting she masturbate.
"What's wrong with Fleur?" Hermione asked, frowning.
"I mean, I get that you see some other side of her or whatever, but she's kind of… Kind of a bitch, Hermione," Ginny said, shrugging again.
Hermione frowned.
"She's more complex than that," Hermione defended.
"Oh come off it, Hermione," Ginny sighed, "I've been avoiding bringing it up because you seemed so disappointed at striking out with her… But you kind of dodged a bullet. She just swans around the castle like she owns the place! Complaining, judging people, being mean to anyone who talks to her—"
"Anyone who tries to grope her or ask her out!" Hermione defended.
"Hermione," Ginny said, leaning back in her chair in disbelief, "Do you really think you would be giving her a pass on her behaviour if she wasn't hot?"
"Ginny!" Hermione growled, "That's what I'm trying to say to you! She's more than just a pretty face! Everyone writes her off as being hot or mean… There's more to her below the surface. She's just guarded because everyone judges her for her looks or is trying to get something from her."
"I think these hormones are getting to you…" Ginny mumbled, rolling her eyes.
"Ugh! That's it!" Hermione said, slamming down her beer. This time she didn't care that people were looking over, "Ginny, I'm not going to have you talking about her like that."
Hermione stood up, temper flaring. Ginny opened her mouth to say something, before thinking better of it, closing her mouth again.
Hermione tossed a couple of coins on the table to cover her drink before grabbing her cloak and heading out the door.
She was annoyed. She had hoped that opening up to Ginny would make her feel better about everything going on. Instead, it had just made things worse. She was feeling protective of Fleur again.
She pulled the hood of her cloak up against the rain, hunching her shoulders as thunder pealed out. She had cast a charm on her cloak to repel the rain from it, but it didn't make the weather any less unpleasant. Hermione shivered and weaved around the clusters of students huddling together to keep warm or head to the shops.
She wanted nothing more than to get back to the warmth of the Gryffindor Common Room right now. She needed a cup of tea and a good book to take her mind off things.
Hermione was not surprised that she didn't see many Beauxbatons students on her way back to the castle. Their wardrobes hardly seemed adequate for the cold.
That being said, Fleur looked amazing in her short silk uniform. The way it hugged her curves…
"Granger!" a gruff voice bellowed out.
Hermione had just got back onto the Hogwarts grounds. The rain was so heavy and sky so dark that Hermione couldn't quite work out who it was that had called out to her. She walked over to the figure.
Lightning lit up the sky with a loud peal of thunder. Hermione held back a yelp as the face of Mad-Eye Moody was illuminated by the lightning. The lightning highlighted the chunks missing from his haggard face. His magic eye was swirling wildly in his head.
"Er, Professor?" Hermione asked, raising her voice a little to be heard over the weather.
"Has Potter worked out the Egg yet?" Moody growled. He sounded almost irritated.
"Er, no," Hermione replied, "But I'll help him."
"Bloody hell, he's had it for weeks now," Moody commented darkly. Hermione was surprised by his reaction. The Second Task due for a while yet.
"Well… He's been trying," Hermione tried to defend Harry, "We all have."
Moody frowned deeply, his mouth looking like a deep gash in his face.
Thunder and lightning rumbled again.
"Tell him…" thunder drowned out the last part of Moody's sentence.
"Pardon, Professor?" Hermione asked. The infamous Auror was seriously creeping her out. She just wanted to wrap up the conversation and get the hell back to the castle.
"Tell him to take a bath with it," Moody growled, "Mull it over."
"Take… A bath…?" Hermione's face contorted with confusion. Should she be reporting this?
"You're a smart girl, Granger," Moody rumbled, "You'll work it out."
"Are you…" Hermione wasn't sure exactly how to word it, "Is this against the rules?"
"Dunno what you're talking about," Moody growled. He tugged his cloak tighter around himself before limping away into the stormy weather.
Hermione's mood had worsened by the evening.
The assignments were quite heavy at Hogwarts and after Hogsmeade, most students had retreated to the library to study. Even Hermione's usually abandoned secret spot in the library was taken.
So she was sitting at a table crammed amongst other tables, distracted by constant murmuring and talking from other tables. Not to mention Harry and Ron bugging her constantly on what to put in their Potions essay.
"I told you," Hermione told the boys waspishly, "If you just go through your class notes and the textbook, you'll find more than enough for your own essay."
"Yeah, but where?!" Ron whined, looking at his open textbook helplessly.
Hermione tuned him out, her brown eyes caught on a table not too far from theirs. Her eyes widened slightly with surprise, before narrowing suspiciously.
"Earth to 'Mione?" Ron waved his hand at her, but Hermione swatted it away.
Pansy Parkinson was sitting at a table with Fleur Delacour, leaning in closely to her and pointing at something in a textbook. Pansy was preened to perfection, her silky dark bob framing her face prettily. Her blood-red lips were sounding out something slowly for Fleur.
Hermione felt a horrible twist in her stomach, like a lead had been dropped in there and bounced around.
"Be right back," Hermione muttered to the boys.
She got up, stalking over to the table Pansy was at without even thinking. She found herself towering over the girls, her arms crossed tightly across her chest.
Pansy looked up, a large smirk affixing itself to her face as she took in Hermione's expression.
"Can we help you, Granger?" Pansy asked with fake sweetness.
Fleur raised her eyes from the book in front of her, azure eyes settling on Hermione with that strange intensity they had. Hermione felt her stomach wobble again. Hermione turned her gaze back to the infuriating Slytherin.
"If you're just here to check me out again, you can do that in Potions next week," Pansy added when Hermione still hadn't said anything, her smirk growing as she needled the Gryffindor.
Hermione blushed darkly, even more annoyed at Parkinson.
"What are you doing?" Hermione asked, forcing her voice to stay even.
Pansy snorted.
"What does it look like? I'm helping Delacour study," Pansy said, throwing an arm behind Fleur's chair. Fleur was still watching Hermione with her impossibly unreadable expression.
Hermione felt her jaw tense. What was Parkinson playing at? Pansy and her Slytherin cronies hated anyone that wasn't pureblooded. Was she just doing this as another way to get under Hermione's skin?!
"You don't have any classes together," Hermione replied in her forced even voice.
"Pansy 'ere volunteered to 'elp me wiz my English," Fleur explained, cocking her head to one side. She was watching Hermione curiously now.
"Your English… Your English is fine…" Hermione managed, swallowing heavily. Fleur looked so damned cute when she cocked her head to one side like that.
Fleur smiled very slightly.
"Zank you for saying so," Fleur said politely, "But my English skills leave a lot to be desired. Okay, Pansy—I 'ave reached my limit for study for ze day. I need to go and relax. Merci, Pansy. We should do zis again."
Fleur closed the book in front of her, slipping it into her satchel. She stood up, smoothing down her clothes.
Hermione felt her mouth go dry. Fleur was wearing a knit jumper and some tight black jeans. Hermione hadn't seen her look so casual before. It was… Surprisingly hot. Hermione wanted nothing more than to grab the Frenchwoman by the belt-buckle and yank her towards her, pulling her into a passionate kiss.
She bit her lip, trying to quell her over-active imagination.
Fleur slipped her satchel over her shoulder, leaning in and kissing Pansy quickly on each cheek.
Pansy shot Hermione a look like the cat that got the cream.
Hermione nodded politely at Fleur as the blonde glided away, before quickly slipping into the chair beside Pansy and openly glowering at her.
"Cut the crap, Parkinson," Hermione growled, "You and I both know your gang wouldn't be caught dead with someone that wasn't pureblooded. What are you up to?"
Pansy chuckled.
"Awfully possessive of someone that doesn't even want to be your friend, Granger," Pansy replied imperiously, "I'm just helping Delacour get those great grades she deserves."
"You don't care about her grades!" Hermione retorted, "You said at detention you think she's nothing but a 'hot piece of ass!'"
Pansy grinned.
"I think you're just jealous," Pansy sneered. She leaned right into Hermione's personal space, close enough that Hermione could feel her breath brushing her lips. She felt a fire burn within her at the challenge from her rival.
"I'm not jealous," Hermione said between gritted teeth. She was trying not to get flustered by how close Pansy was to her. She had an idea that Pansy was using Hermione's awkwardness to get an upper hand in their constant competiveness.
Pansy smiled wider, sighing dramatically.
"You know, I think you were right," Pansy said lightly, "I think I do have a thing for Delacour."
Hermione smiled triumphantly, before narrowing her eyes in suspicion. Pansy would never voluntarily admit that Hermione was right. Not unless she was about to use it to get right back at Hermione.
"You do, do you?" Hermione replied, her eyes locked with Pansy's. Her rival's gaze didn't waver, continuing to challenge her.
"She's really quite cute, don't you think?" Pansy smirked, "And, now you've put her off Gryffindor girls, I probably have a decent shot."
Hermione gritted her teeth, trying not to let Pansy crawl under her skin.
"You don't like part-Creatures," Hermione replied in a low hiss.
"I could make an exception," Pansy smiled wider, leaning in even closer to Hermione, "Besides… Given she's a creature, I have another reason to get her into a collar in the bedroom. Wouldn't that be hot?"
Pansy and Hermione's faces were now a mere hairs-breadth apart.
Hermione slammed her hand on the table, leaning back and cursing. Pansy had got under her skin and the Slytherin knew it.
"Stay away from her," Hermione growled.
"She's not yours," Pansy replied in a mocking sing-song voice, "If she wants to seek me out, she can."
Hermione ground her teeth, marching away from Pansy before she could give the Slytherin the satisfaction of further reaction.
She went and returned to her table with Harry and Ron. She needed a distraction, stat.
"Were you just about to snog Pansy Parkinson?" Ron asked, looking at Hermione like she was mad.
"The opposite," Hermione growled, "Harry, were you planning on following up that clue from Moody today?"
"Erm, not really," Harry mumbled guiltily, rubbing the back of his neck, "I dunno…The Champions all got given the password for the Prefect's bathrooms on Seventh Floor at the start of the tournament in case we need some downtime, but… I feel like a bit of a git taking a bath with a giant golden egg."
"Let me do it," Hermione said, putting out a hand, "I need a distraction. Right now."
"Oh, are you sure, 'Mione?" Harry asked, although he was already fishing the egg out from his backpack. He handed it to her, placing it heavily in her hand. He scribbled down the password on a scrap of parchment, passing it to the brunette.
"I'm bloody sure," Hermione replied, taking the egg and slipping it into her satchel. She stormed out of the library without looking at Pansy's table.
"Bloody Ginny, bloody Pansy, bloody hormones," Hermione cursed darkly under her breath. She was wearing a fluffy scarlet and gold robe, heading to the Seventh Floor bathroom.
An ugly gargoyle was on guard at the door.
"Minty Fresh," Hermione told the gargoyle, who obediently stepped aside to let Hermione in.
Hermione was so wound up she was actually quite looking forward to a bath. The dormitories only had showers. Back home at her parents' house, she used to love taking baths after a long day. After cramming for a test, or school bullies being a bit much… It never failed to calm and soothe her.
As she stepped into a small alcove, Hermione saw there was a door for the girls' bathrooms and one for the boys'. She went to the girls' one, noticing straight away that the air was filled a sweet smell.
Hermione looked around, taking in the view. The room was a cavernous marble room, unlike most of the other rooms in Hogwarts that were made of stone. There were toilet stalls over on the far end of the room. The rest of the room was large and open. There were a few polished benches around the edges of the room. The air was warm and steamy, already relaxing Hermione's shoulders.
In the centre of the room, showcased in all its brilliance, was a large bath the size of a small pool, or an overly large hot tub. It was set into the floor of the bathroom. It was lined with an outrageous number of taps, all differing in their sizes and appearances. Some were small, with plain handles on them. Some were large and golden, set with large gemstones as their handles.
Hermione smiled lightly, stepping over to a bench and tossing her satchel on it. She stretched her neck with a sigh, feeling it click. She knew her muscles were beyond tense. She glanced over at the bath. It was already full of bubbly water, steaming invitingly. Hermione wondered if the room was enchanted to already have a full tub when a guest walked in.
She disrobed eagerly, folding her clothes neatly on the bench. Naked, Hermione rolled her shoulders. She glanced over at the door to the bathrooms. It was selfish, but she really didn't feel like sharing the bathroom while she relaxed. The last thing she needed when she was this wound up was a bunch of people barging in and loudly talking. Hermione picked up her wand from its place—neatly on top of her clothes. She swiftly cast a locking charm on the door, smiling to herself as she tossed her wand back on her pile of clothes.
Hermione heard splashing from the pool, turning back to it curiously. The bubbles were bouncing around.
Must be the magic of it all, Hermione thought to herself. She picked up the Golden Egg.
Hermione rolled her tense shoulders again, walking slowly towards the large bath. It was practically glowing. It looked so inviting.
Hermione placed the Golden Egg at the edge of the bath. She then dropped to her haunches, dipping a cautionary finger into the water.
Perfect.
Hermione slipped herself swiftly into the bath, feet first. It was luxury.
The bath was the perfect temperature and whatever concoctions were in the water soothed her skin.
Hermione let out a pleased sigh, leaning her head against the edge of the bath.
The stresses of the day were already beginning to melt away.
SPE-LASH!
Hermione screamed, a jolt of fear constricting her previously relaxed body.
A long mane of wet hair had flipped out of the water.
Hermione's heart was hammering in her chest. She gasped for breath as she slowly processed the bright blue eyes blinking across from her.
Fleur Delacour had emerged from the water, like Aphrodite herself. She ran her hands through her wet hair, smoothing it back from her face. She didn't seem to react to Hermione's presence in the bath. Or maybe she did… She had such an infuriatingly unreadable face.
"Wh-what are you doing here?!" Hermione stammered, pulling bubbles more closely around herself. She didn't want Fleur to see anything.
"What are you doing 'ere?" Fleur asked, cocking her head to one side, "You are not in ze Tournament, nor a Prefect."
Even though Hermione couldn't see anything other than the top of Fleur's bare shoulders and her head, the brunette felt a blush creep across her neck and face.
"I, er, needed to relax," Hermione replied, "Tense day. Plus, I thought I could have a go trying to work out the Golden Egg."
"Oh," Fleur replied, a slight smile on her face, "Me too."
She ducked under the water again without warning, emerging again soon after, holding up her own Golden Egg.
She placed it beside the edge of the bath, similar to how Hermione had placed Harry's.
Hermione knew she should pry a little into why Fleur had left her egg on the bottom of the bath… It was likely the key to unlocking the puzzle. But she couldn't help herself.
"You really shouldn't hang out with Pansy, you know," Hermione cautioned Fleur, "Her and all her friends are pure-blood supremacists."
Fleur's eyebrows raised.
"Really," Fleur replied, "She seemed so 'elpful."
"Really," Hermione confirmed with a frown. She could almost feel her jaw tensing again at the memory of how Pansy spoke of Fleur, "The way she talks about you behind your back… She doesn't see you like an equal."
Fleur's eyebrows raised further.
"Hmm… Someone 'oo seems friendly and nice to my face but 'as ulterior motives? 'Oo is secretly treating me differently because of my blood? Sounds familiar," Fleur said darkly. Her bright blue gaze had an edge to it now. Hermione could tell she wasn't quite forgiven for her research yet.
"I… You know I'm sorry about all that," Hermione muttered, averting her gaze for a moment, "But I wouldn't lie to you about this."
"Why wouldn't you?" Fleur countered, "It is not like we are friends zese days."
That one stung a little. Hermione had let her hopes rise with Fleur's thawing towards her.
"We aren't friends," Hermione conceded, "But we're something, right? I don't want you to get hurt."
Fleur seemed to consider Hermione's words.
"We are… somezing I suppose," Fleur muttered, so quietly Hermione could barely hear the words.
Hermione felt the relaxing pull of the bathwater. She rolled her shoulders again and leaned back against the bath. Despite her body relaxing, her stomach still felt wobbly under the intense azure gaze of Fleur.
"So… You really do not want me becoming closer wiz Pansy?" Fleur asked, her tone carefully neutral. Hermione looked up, Fleur had averted her gaze momentarily.
Hermione's mouth went dry as she allowed herself to fully gaze on Fleur. Her platinum blonde hair was wet and though she had slicked it back, strands were beginning to fall loose around her face. Her high cheekbones were illuminated in the soft lighting of the bathroom. Hermione's eyes roamed freely, admiring Fleur's devastating jawline, her delicate collarbones and her creamy skin. She truly was beautiful. She always was. But in rare moments like this, Hermione got to see the delicate and vulnerable side of Fleur's beauty.
The almost shy way that the proud girl was looking away made Hermione think yet again that perhaps Fleur did still harbour some kind of feelings for her. She might still be getting over what Hermione had done, but clearly there was something still there.
Hermione felt her jaw slacken as Fleur readjusted her posture, the bubbly water slipping down briefly to show a hint of cleavage.
The brunette cleared her throat.
"Er… Yeah—I mean, no—I mean… I don't like the idea of you letting her close," Hermione replied awkwardly. She could feel her blush getting worse.
Fleur simply nodded. Hermione inwardly squirmed. Could she at least betray a shred of what she was thinking?!
Hermione felt her stomach jolt as Fleur's eyes returned to hers. She wondered if Fleur could feel the tension that she could. It felt so palpable.
Hermione tried to focus. Something about Fleur made her usually sharp mind turn to mush. She should be asking Fleur about the Golden Egg.
"Why are you so guarded?" Hermione asked, "You snap at anyone new who tries to get close to you. You don't seem to forgive easily. You're so incredibly protective of Gabrielle. Did something happen to you?"
Hermione watched, fascinated, as she could almost physically see the wall of ice descend in front of Fleur. The blonde's stature changed, becoming more rigid. Her shoulders pulled back and her back straightened.
Hermione inwardly wondered if she should have just let sleeping dogs lie.
But her desire to know more about the guarded Frenchwoman was overpowering.
Fleur stared her down with such an icy stare it would make Hell freeze over. But as the seconds passed slowly, Fleur's expression finally softened a little as she evidently deemed Hermione not to be a threat.
"Do you know what it is like to go zrough life never knowing ze true reason why someone is being nice to you?" Fleur asked coldly.
Hermione frowned. She didn't. Truthfully, Hermione had been bullied for almost all of her schooling, so really, she didn't know what it was like to go through life with that many people being nice to her at all.
"Err, no," Hermione answered honestly.
Fleur's eyes narrowed as she looked away. She seemed bitter on the subject.
"Do you know what it is like when people pursue you mercilessly? Sometimes wiz ze worst of intentions?" Fleur asked, her voice was even colder and quieter.
Hermione felt a chill down her spine. Fleur's face was finally betraying emotion, but it was a pain that made Hermione's chest ache.
"What… What intentions?" Hermione asked, her voice hoarse.
"To use me as a conquest… To use me to social climb amongst French society," Fleur said bitterly. Her eyes finally flicked back up to meet Hermione's. They seemed so stormy and swirled with emotion as she spoke her next words, "To hurt me."
"Fleur!" Hermione's heart was breaking at the pure, vulnerable pain on Fleur's face. She pushed off from the wall of the small pool, not even thinking. She swept across the bath, pulling Fleur into her arms for a tight embrace.
The blonde went rigid in her arms before relaxing a little as Hermione stroked her hair.
"I hope you know that I would never hurt you," Hermione said softly, "And I would never let anyone hurt you. Not you or Gabrielle."
"You don't know us," Fleur said defensively.
"Maybe not… But I want to," Hermione said. She suddenly processed that she was, in fact, clutching an awkward and naked Fleur Delacour to her own nude form. She blushed darkly and released Fleur from her arms. But she remained standing in front of Fleur in the bath. At least the bath was deep enough and bubbly enough that Fleur still could not see anything more than Hermione's shoulder tops.
Hermione avoided looking at Fleur directly for a moment, inwardly willing her blush to subside. But as the blonde cleared her throat awkwardly, she looked up again.
Hermione was surprised to see that Fleur herself had a slight blush prettily dusting her features.
Hermione swallowed heavily as Fleur's eyes locked with hers once more.
Hermione could feel the tension between them again, stronger than ever. Fleur's pupils seemed bigger than usual and it seemed like she was edging closer.
Hermione swallowed again. Her gaze dropped from Fleur's intense gaze down to her plump pink lips. It was unfair for someone to be this attractive.
Hermione wanted nothing more than to close the last of the gap and kiss Fleur. But she could hardly do that after Fleur just opened up to her about people using her. Hermione froze, inhaling sharply.
"I… Uh… I should go," Fleur said uncomfortably.
Hermione nodded, swallowing heavily again. She turned her back to Fleur to allow the blonde privacy to get out of the bath.
Well, to allow Fleur privacy and to help ease her own hormones. Since hugging Fleur in the bath, Hermione's mind was suddenly kicking into overdrive. There was not a doubt in her mind that she would be replaying that particular sensation while touching herself later. Stupid hormones. Hermione blushed like an idiot.
"'Ermione… I…" Fleur said from somewhere behind Hermione. Hermione heard the noise of Fleur's satchel buckles and deemed it safe enough to turn around. Sure enough, Fleur was back in her uniform already, hair damp and loose around her shoulders.
"Yes?" Hermione asked, before sinking down further in the bubbles. Maybe if she covered up some of her face in bubbles, then Fleur wouldn't even notice her blush.
Fleur sighed.
"I don't know what to make of you," Fleur said, shaking her head, "After what you did… But then you… I don't know what to zink of you 'Ermione Granger."
"I… I really like you, Fleur," Hermione confessed from amongst the bubbles, cursing her blush.
Fleur bit her lip, averting her eyes for a moment as she fiddled with the strap on her satchel.
"I really do 'ave to go," Fleur said quickly, nodding at Hermione politely before sweeping from the room.
Hermione didn't turn around, cringing as Fleur struggled with the door before rattling off a quick unlocking charm.
Only when she heard the bathroom door open and shut properly, did Hermione let herself exhale.
"Cripes, do I always have to say the stupidest stuff to her?!" Hermione groaned.
She turned around in the water, kicking against the floor of the bath to propel herself over to where Harry's Golden Egg was waiting. She should really try to work it out, but her head was a mess after her latest interaction with Fleur.
She soaked in the bath instead, floating on her back. There was an amazing stained glass window on one of the walls with a scene of mermaids and rocks. It reminded Hermione of the ancient myths of Sirens.
It had been pretty obvious that she had a crush on Fleur. The whole school already knew it. But somehow it felt even more scary to put it into words to the blonde.
Hermione was still reeling from Fleur opening up enough to tell her that her whole life she'd faced people using her for their own ulterior motives. It made Hermione feel even worse about her hidden research project. She'd already known it had hurt Fleur, but now she knew it had hurt Fleur in a really sore spot. It was no wonder Fleur was having a hard time letting it go.
Hermione sighed, watching the stained glass mermaid flip her tail.
Maybe it didn't matter how many good things she did. Maybe Fleur would never be able to get past it. A lifetime of people trying to use or hurt her must have left a lot of scars.
Hermione's mind kept drifting back to her knee-jerk move to soothe Fleur. Fleur was a powerful witch, but her form was so small and delicate. It made Hermione feel so good to hold her in her arms tightly. Not to mention the feeling of Fleur's incredible body pressed against hers… Fleur was toned and curved in all the best places.
Hermione had never before felt such a horrible mix of arousal and heartbreak at the same time. Stupid hormones.
Hermione let her mind turn to how differently that moment could have gone. She could have kept stroking Fleur's hair until she relaxed even further into her arms. Cupped Fleur's face and stared deep into those pained blue eyes. Leaned in and kissed Fleur's pain away. The feeling of those soft, full lips against hers…
I'm a terrible person… Hermione thought to herself, allowing her hand to drift south to the now painful throb between her legs.
She imagined pushing her tongue into Fleur's mouth as her hand began to work.
"Why does everyone do that when they're alone in here?" a spooky and mournful voice called out.
Hermione jolted upright immediately, wrenching her hand away from her nether regions and hastily pulling bubbles around herself.
Moaning Myrtle floated through a wall and hovered upside down above the bath. If Hermione had blushed deeply before, it was nothing on how red her face was now. She couldn't believe the most annoying ghost in the castle had just caught her having some alone time in a bathroom.
"Oh, you don't need to stop on my account," Myrtle giggled, rolling over in mid-air and propping her face up on her hands. She kicked her legs up behind her in a girlish way.
"I'm, er, pretty sure I do," Hermione muttered, trying to avoid looking at Myrtle. She was suddenly ready to end her bath and head back to the dormitory.
"How's your friend Harry Potter doing?" Myrtle asked with a sigh, "Is that who you were thinking about when you were touching yourself just now?"
"Harry?! God no!" Hermione yelped, embarrassed.
Myrtle scowled at her.
"You could do a lot worse than Harry Potter," Myrtle chided, "You know, you guys never come to see me anymore."
Hermione hid her awkward frown.
"I… Uh… I should go," Hermione muttered, "Do you mind, er, looking away?"
"Why would I look away?" Myrtle asked, "We're both girls here."
Hermione groaned, realising Myrtle wasn't about to leave her alone until she left the room.
"Fine," Hermione sighed, hoisting herself out of the bath. She picked up the Golden Egg and walked over to the bench with her clothes to towel off and re-dress.
"Wow… Harry's a lucky boy," Myrtle teased.
Hermione ignored her, though she could feel the tips of her ears redden.
It was late by the time Hermione skulked back to the Gryffindor Common Room. Her mind was still full of Fleur—her pain, her conflicted attitude towards Hermione, and more distractingly… The feeling of her warm and nude form held tightly against Hermione's body.
Hermione didn't even notice anyone else in the room until she heard her name being called out.
Looking up, she saw Harry and Ron in a couch beside the Common Room fireplace, waving her over.
Hermione wanted nothing more than to head up to her room and finish off what Myrtle had horrifically interrupted earlier. She was still a confused and frustrated mess after the events in the bathroom.
Hermione sighed, heading over to the couch and sitting in an armchair opposite the boys.
"How did it go with the egg?" Harry asked hopefully, looking at Hermione.
"Oh… The egg…" Hermione responded, her brain suddenly kicking in again and remembering the original intent of her trip to the bathroom, "I, uh… I took it to the bathroom but I kind of got distracted."
"You? Distracted?" Ron questioned, scrunching his face up, baffled.
"Fleur was there," Hermione explained, earning a nod of understanding from the similarly hormonal Ron, "She was working on her egg."
"Her egg? What did she do with hers?" Harry asked eagerly, leaning forward in his seat.
"I dunno, she had it under the water and she was under the water with it," Hermione responded quickly, "I didn't really get to that, we got talking –"
"Sorry, you didn't get to that?!" Harry responded, looking stressed, "You practically had the solution right in front of you and you didn't work it out? I'm in a competition that could literally kill me and you decided now to slack off on work?!"
"Harry, it wasn't like that, you see, Fleur—"
"Fleur, Fleur, Fleur!" Harry snapped, "It's all you bloody think about! You were close-ish with her for like what? A couple of weeks at the start of the school year? Let it go, Hermione! It isn't going to happen! I can't believe you would let me down like this!"
Hermione was shocked.
"Relax! You still have heaps of time!" Hermione responded, "We're most of the way there!"
Ron was looking in between Harry and Hermione in bewilderment. He was evidently used to being the one that was involved in shouting arguments with either one of the friends. He'd never seen Harry and Hermione argue with each other before.
"Most of the way there?!" Harry bellowed. People in the Common Room were beginning to stare now. "We would be all of the way there if you hadn't let me down tonight! All for a stupid girl! You're not the Hermione that I know anymore!"
Hermione paused, taken aback.
"Not the Hermione you know anymore?" Hermione replied in a hushed tone, her eyes narrowing, "As in, not the Hermione that does all your work for you? That makes sure you pass all your classes and gets through the school year in one piece? While you are allowed to go around being distracted by stupid conspiracy theories and girls? You're a selfish jerk, Harry Potter. It's not solely my responsibility to get you through the Tournament. You're the Champion, not me."
Her last line seemed to touch an already weary nerve, as Harry instantly exploded.
"I never entered myself as Champion!" Harry roared. He got to his feet, snatching the Golden Egg from Hermione's hands before storming off and up the staircase to the boys' dormitory.
Hermione glared after him, still fuming. When she heard the door to the boys' dormitory slam loudly, she turned back to look at Ron.
Ron was sitting wide-eyed in the couch across from her, looking entirely baffled.
"Blimey… I don't think I've ever seen the two of you argue like that before," Ron commented, slack-jawed, "I mean, Harry and me, yeah… You and me, yeah… But you and Harry?! What's got into you two?"
Hermione sighed heavily, leaning back in her armchair.
"I don't know."
So... What do you think? Is Harry being unfair by relying so heavily on Hermione? Is Hermione overreacting because she's stressed out? Will the weird tension between Hermione and Pansy ever snap? Will Fleur ever be able to properly trust Hermione again?
Let me know what you think in the reviews!