A/N: Hello all! I'm back from my brief hiatus! I'm a cheapskate with an ancient laptop and was temporarily locked out of my fics- but thanks to the magic of 30 day free trials, I have access again!
Sorry this chapter is all about the Yule Ball, but as with the Tournament Tasks, I'm trying to change it up a bit so it isn't the same old Goblet of Fire year.
By the way, I'm in a chill af Discord server where we chat about fics, share recommendations and chat about games we've been playing lately. It's for anyone over 18 who is into any F/F Harry Potter pairing. Here's the link if you're keen to join: discord. gg/ d 4wgtA5jrA (delete the spaces to make the link work, I gotta get around the auto delete of urls somehow!)
Fleur would be lying if she tried to convince herself that she hadn't spent the better part of half a week reliving her kissing session with Hermione Granger. Every time her mind began to drift she found herself lost in the memory of pinning the brunette against the cool stone walls of Hogwarts, her hands lost in luscious curls.
Fleur twirled her wand idly in her slender fingers. Professor Snape was discussing a potion they had already learned the previous year at Beauxbatons. It was incredibly difficult to keep Hermione off her mind without anything to actually learn.
Fleur shivered.
The dungeons were always the coldest part of the draughty castle. Fleur wasn't sure how the Slytherins coped with having their living quarters down there.
Ever attentive, Julie moved her chair closer to Fleur, leaning slightly into her. It took the edge off Fleur's chills.
Fleur wondered if she should just allow herself to freeze in the castle, or to seek alternative warmth from other classmates. The damned Veela blood running through her veins just muddled things further, pushing her to cuddle with peers to ward off her sensitivity to the cold. She had to admit though, it instantly had a calming effect on her.
Apolline had schooled Fleur from a young age on the importance of physical touch to a Veela. It took the harshness off some of the Veela features: dulled sensitivity to cold, allowed for more than the typical light and fitful sleep, cooled a wild temperament. It didn't have to be romantic or sexual.
So Fleur was used to instinctively seeking out physical touch from her friends. In turn, her friends were always very affectionate with her. Hugging, sitting closely to her, holding her arm. They all knew that it was healthy for Fleur as a part-Veela.
Yet, Fleur knew that it must be tearing at Julie's wounded heart.
"You don't have to do that," Fleur murmured lightly, moving her chair ever so slightly away from Julie.
A flicker of hurt registered in Julie's dark blue eyes before she affixed a smile and nodded, pretending not to notice that Fleur had already started shivering again.
There was a knock at the dungeon doors, interrupting Snape's dull monologue on the potion at hand. Sighing heavily, Snape waved his wand curtly to open the door.
"To what do I owe this interruption?" Snape intoned nasally, fixing his withering gaze on three Hogwarts students.
They looked to be sixth or seventh-years— from the Hufflepuff house, judging from their bright yellow ties. All three were smiling brightly, in a way that was so cheery it bordered on obnoxious.
"Hello, hello, hello!" a rosy-cheeked boy from the trio stepped to the front of the dungeon, "We're the Hogwarts Social Committee and we're here to remind you all of the upcoming Yule Ball!"
Various excited whispers and groans began to bounce around the tables in the dungeon.
"That's right party people!" an equally cheesy girl chimed in beside the boy, "If we want to raise the roof on this party of a lifetime, we need to make sure everyone gets their tickets in time!"
Fleur rolled her eyes, annoyed by the Hufflepuffs already. They reminded her painfully of Apolline when she tried to be 'cool' and 'relatable' with Fleur. Julie caught Fleur's gaze, pulling a face that made Fleur smirk.
"You have ten seconds left before I deduct fifty points from Hufflepuff for interrupting my lessons with this drivel," Snape informed the Social Committee members.
"Ah," the rosy-cheeked boy looked equal parts panicked and intimidated by Snape, "So— buy your tickets from the Social Committee and don't forget to find a partner! Dance lessons will be compulsory for Hogwarts students, but not for those from visiting schools."
With that, and a nervous glance at Snape, the Hufflepuffs high-tailed it out of the dungeons, pausing only to wave cheerily at the class before Snape slammed the door on them.
As Snape turned back to the lesson at hand, Fleur's mind once again roamed freely to Hermione. Fleur bet Hermione would look absolutely stunning in formal-wear. In a suit? In a dress? Hermione could pull absolutely any aesthetic off that she wished. Fleur let her mind wander pleasurably.
Hermione rolled her eyes as Professor Flitwick ushered the irritating Hufflepuffs from the Social Committee out of the Gryffindor-Ravenclaw Charms lesson. They were exactly the kind of cheesy students that gave Hufflepuff a bad name.
She turned back to Ron, who she was practising a banishing charm with. Once again, she had picked up the complicated hand movement, but Ron was too clumsy and lax. She was guiding him with impatient bossiness.
"Yeah, yeah, twist and loop," Ron sighed for the millionth time, "Anyway, about those Hufflepuff gits…"
"The Hogwarts Social Committee?" Hermione clarified, raising an eyebrow.
Ron nodded, emphatically.
"Yeah, the Hufflepuff gits," Ron nodded, "D'you reckon they're serious about everyone getting a partner. I thought just the Champions had to have a date to this thing?"
"Not according to Lavender and Parvati," Hermione said distractedly, practising the banishing charm on one of the feathers on the table between them. It instantly darted out of sight.
"What d'you mean?!" Ron asked, a little panicked, "What'd they say?"
"I don't know," Hermione huffed, trying to concentrate on nailing the charm, "Something about most people having partners. You know I can't stand their gossiping in the dormitories. Can you show me how you're doing the hand movement again?"
Ron, ignoring her, wrenched around in his chair, looking two rows back at where Lavender was practising her banishing charm with Harry.
"Oi! Lav!" Ron called out bluntly, "Are most people taking partners to this Ball thing?"
Lavender, scowling at the nickname 'Lav,' fixed Ron with a contemptious look.
"Most people?" Lavender said airily, "Try everyone, Ron. You'd have to be a total saddo to go on your own."
Swearing, Ron turned back in his seat.
"Can we focus on the charm now?" Hermione asked.
"How are you so calm?!" Ron asked, "We're going to be the laughingstock of the school going alone!"
Hermione rolled her eyes at Ron's ridiculousness.
"God forbid we go together," Hermione shot back. A glimmer of hope seemed to spark in Ron's eyes.
"Could we—"
"Absolutely not," Hermione shot down swiftly. 'Saddo' or not, she would much rather go to the Yule Ball solo than go with Ron. She was convinced he would be the type to ditch her at the door the second he got in, only to return to step on her feet for a couple of dances.
"Well, who are we going to go with instead?" Ron huffed, propping his head up on his hands.
Hermione, not one to kiss and tell, had been ruminating on her snogging session with Fleur Delacour. If she had thought she was an annoyingly hormonal teenager before, it had nothing on life after making out with Fleur. Hermione could scarcely keep her mind on her classes without thinking about soft plump lips or smooth, flawless skin. More than once, she had found herself picturing herself in far more compromising scenes with the French student— resulting in a deep blush and a firm talking to herself. Hermione wasn't about to be yet another horny teenager objectifying Fleur.
Truthfully, Hermione would love nothing more than to ask Fleur out to the Yule Ball. She bet Fleur would look absolutely stunning dressed up for the occasion. She was already so regal and elegant, she would fit right in at a ball.
Hermione smiled idly, picturing herself picking up Fleur from the Beauxbatons Carriage and walking with her hand in hand to the ball. Sneaking off later in the night to snog behind some bushes…
Hermione blushed as her hormonal brain quickly escalated to thoughts of getting Fleur out of her formalwear.
"Are you okay?" Ron asked, bringing Hermione embarrassingly back to her senses.
Hermione cleared her throat and straightened the things on her desk, almost knocking her textbook to the floor.
"Er, fine, absolutely fine," Hermione muttered, "Just, er, thinking about the charm is all."
"Must be nice not to be worrying about public shame," Ron retorted, still moody at the prospect of finding a ball partner.
Hermione inwardly disagreed.
Hermione had seen enough of the enamoured suitors around the castle to know that Fleur wasn't afraid to turn someone down, sometimes incredibly bluntly.
It had been a good few days since they had kissed and Hermione had yet to see Fleur on her own for long enough to discuss what had happened. They had studied together once in the library, but Gabrielle had tagged along and hadn't left Hermione's side for a second. Every time Hermione had seen Fleur apart from then, she had been flanked by her Beauxbatons friends, including Julie. This was the kind of delicate subject that required a good one-on-one discussion— not embarrassing blurted requests in front of Fleur's baby sister and her kind-of ex.
Of course Hermione wanted to ask Fleur to the Yule Ball. But the more time passed since their heated kissing session, the more Hermione doubted. Perhaps it was a mistake? Fleur had merely been caught up in the moment? Maybe she had just meant it in a friendly way? Maybe it was an elaborate prank?
Wild and irrational thoughts gnawed at Hermione's confidence.
Professor Flitwick, somehow satisfied with the clumsy attempts at spellwork, set some homework and dismissed the class. Hermione packed up her things, trying to tune back into Ron's whining instead of her own worries.
"I wonder what Harry's going to do," Ron wondered aloud, casting a look back at their other friend.
Things were very much frosty between Harry and Hermione, meaning Ron was spending his time volleying between the two friends.
Hermione sighed.
"I don't mind if you walk with him to our next class to discuss the issue of ball partners," Hermione said, exasperatedly. Ron nodded enthusiastically before bounding off with all the grace of an eager puppy.
Really, Hermione ought to sort the wedge between her and Harry. But she was still a little hurt at his flippant comments and worn down by all the help he had required of her. Besides, with no clues as to the new Second Task as of yet, Harry hardly needed her.
Hermione slung her satchel over her shoulder. Being so lost in thought, she was now trailing behind the other students streaming out of the classroom. She had better quicken her pace if she wanted to make it all the way across the castle in time to get a decent seat in Arithmancy.
The brunette tugged a hand through her wayward curls as she burst out into the hallway, immediately walking into a wall of powder blue. Beauxbatons girls.
"Oh!"
Hermione's eyes snapped up at the familiar silky voice. Sky blue eyes were partially surprised, partially watching her with interest.
"Fl-Fleur… I…." Hermione cursed her tongue for not co-operating with her. She just wanted to bite the bullet and ask the blonde to the cursed ball.
She could smell the light and airy scent of expensive perfume in the air and feel the eyes of Fleur's friends on her.
"I was wondering if…" Hermione pressed on, clutching her Gryffindor courage.
Hermione's eyes momentarily flicked from Fleur's curious face to that of her best friend beside her. Julie, pale and pink-lipped, had an expression of pain and anxiety marring her beautiful features.
Hermione felt a twinge of sympathy for the poor love-struck girl.
"I was wondering if you wanted to study together after dinner," Hermione recovered, deciding against hurting Julie's feelings.
Fleur paused, thoughtful for a second, as if trying to work out if that was what Hermione had really wanted to ask, before her face broke out in a content smile radiant enough to warm the entire castle.
"Oui," Fleur replied.
Before Hermione could even register it, Fleur had swept forward and pecked a soft kiss to her cheek. She lingered long enough that her expensive French perfume invaded Hermione's senses.
"Until later, mon amie," Fleur said softly, sending a shiver down Hermione's spine.
The Beauxbatons girls surged forward, following Fleur to head to their next class. Some smiled politely. Julie forced a smile.
"Pfft, that Veela is weak for you," a familiar sour voice sounded at Hermione's side.
"Parkinson," Hermione greeted in a clipped tone, "I don't know what you're on about."
Hermione set off at pace towards Arithmancy, Pansy falling easily into step beside her. Pansy took all the same subjects Hermione did, and Arithmancy was one where they were in the same class.
"Please, she's got it so bad for you I bet if you tossed your wand across the Great Hall she'd go fetch," Pansy sniped.
Hermione's noise of objection was drowned out by a clap of thunder outside the castle and the squeals of over-excited First and Second-Years around them.
"What are you doing walking with me, anyway? You seemed to have been lying low of late," Hermione grumbled.
Pansy, instead of simply replying, infuriatingly took out an expensive looking lipstick and reapplied blood-red to her lips. She rubbed her lips together before provocatively making an air kiss at Hermione.
"Call it the Granger Effect," Pansy said, pocketing her lipstick again.
She was barely a couple of minutes into Pansy's company and Hermione was already feeling like hexing the good-looking Slytherin.
"What does that mean?" Hermione asked impatiently, sick of Pansy's constant need for mystery and half-truths.
"Someone blabbed to Skeeter," Pansy shrugged, "And somewhere along the line certain people got the impression it was my fault."
"So you're in trouble?" Hermione asked, paying more attention now. If the kinds of characters involved in the tournament could kill a man, it didn't bode well for Pansy.
The wind screamed outside as the two girls turned down a lesser used corridor as a shortcut to Arithmancy.
Pansy scoffed.
"Not without any solid proof," Pansy replied, "But nobody is very happy with me. My darling parents, the only reason I was dragged into this mess in the first place, even threatened to pull me out of Hogwarts and send me to Durmstrang."
Proof.
That's all anything seemed to come down to these days.
"So why don't you tell me exactly what is going on?" Hermione pressed, "If you could give me some solid evidence or leads, we could take down this whole thing!"
Pansy laughed, hollow and mocking.
"You Gryffindors are so wrapped up in playing the hero, it's adorable," Pansy retorted, running perfectly manicured fingers through her silky bob.
"Pansy," Hermione said firmly. The door to Arithmancy was in sight, the chance to get information from Pansy diminishing with each step.
"Granger," Pansy replied, teasingly.
"Tell me what you know," Hermione insisted as they got to the door. They were running ever so slightly late now and the hallway was eerily clear.
Pansy smiled then, her blood red lips spreading to reveal perfect white teeth. But there was something off about her smile, a sadness or tiredness pulling at the corners of it.
"What I know is that you act like you're lucky Delacour should even look in your direction," Pansy said in a low and demanding tone, "You stammer and blush and panic, unable to see the simple fact of the matter."
Hermione, entirely thrown by the abrupt twist in conversation topic, couldn't help but ask.
"What simple fact?"
"That you're the girl that makes other girls nervous," Pansy replied, "You're the intimidating one that makes a girl terrified of making a fool of herself. You're the one who could make another girl's heart skip a beat with one dumb flash of those buck-teeth."
"They… They aren't buck anymore," was all Hermione could manage, entirely thrown by Pansy's tirade.
Pansy simply smiled, turning the handle of the door into Arithmancy to open the door. But as Hermione began to walk into the classroom in a daze, Pansy turned on her heel, taking off in the opposite direction to their class.
Hermione frowned, but it was too late, she was in the classroom. Besides, Hermione Granger never skipped a class. She hastily took a desk at the front of the classroom, ignoring the whispered 'know-it-all' and 'teacher's pet' jibes from the Slytherins in the class.
The windows at the edge of the classroom were depressingly dark. Rain beat against the panes of glass, creating an oddly soothing noise which was soon punctuated by a clap of thunder in the distance.
She considered Pansy's words. The mere idea of making other girls nervous was enough to make Hermione's stomach squirm pleasantly.
Hermione ducked her head and copied down the calculations on the blackboard in front of her, trying to banish images of an adorably blushing Fleur from her mind.
No.
She'd barely got Fleur to forgive her. Pansy was speaking rubbish. Hermione had to tread carefully when it came to girls. She was the bumbling bookworm who somehow found a way to ruin her chances every time.
Hermione exhaled slowly, revelling in the temporary relaxation of filling in her parchment with even and tidy notes.
Fleur crossed out her messy looping cursive once more. Her notes were a shambles this Transfiguration lesson.
It was down to her constant cringing and inward face-palming over her run-in with Hermione. She wasn't sure what had overcome her… Grinning like a fool and pecking Hermione on the cheek! It wasn't even like the usual polite kisses she gave her friends as greetings. She had paused. Fleur screwed her eyes shut, mortified.
They hadn't even spoken about their kiss. How awkward.
Something about Hermione Granger really made Fleur's carefully constructed air of elegance entirely fall away. Made her feel clumsy.
Even her wider friend circle had noticed, slyly teasing her about fawning over the curly-haired Hogwarts girl in the hallway. Fleur looked up from her notes, only to see Rochelle and Alice catch her eye and theatrically act out Fleur leaning in to kiss Hermione's cheek. Fleur narrowed her eyes.
"Ladies, do I need to keep you after class?" McGonagall asked tersely, looking over her glasses at Rochelle and Alice with a withering look. Fleur almost smirked as the two of them instantly snapped back to diligently taking notes.
"Serves them right," Fleur muttered under her breath, turning to look at Julie. Her words faded in her mouth at the hurt look on Julie's face. It was quickly hidden as Julie hastily donned a false smile.
"Yeah, those two are always asking for trouble," Julie agreed, turning back to her notes quickly.
Though the stalling of the Second Task had eased a lot of the weight on Fleur's shoulders, Julie was still a problem she was left to contend with. With matters of the heart, it was never clear how long it would take someone to recover. But their exchange was only for the year. If Fleur was to let things progress with Hermione, she only had a certain amount of time.
"Could you look after Gabrielle tonight?" Fleur asked Julie, careful to keep the request as nondescript as possible.
"Of course, Fleur," Julie smiled, "You know I love hanging out with that kid."
"Thank you! I really want to get in some time at the library tonight," Fleur smiled gratefully.
While not the whole truth, it certainly wasn't lying to tell Julie she had things to attend to in the Hogwarts Library that evening.
Hermione cautiously made her way into the library. It was later than she usually liked to go, but it was nice, because a lot of the usual time-wasters had already cleared out for the evening.
Often if she arrived too soon after dinner the library was squashed full of chatty crowds. Fans of the Triwizard Champions trying to get a glance. Frantic students doing homework at the absolute last minute. Loud Slytherins avoiding the cold of their dungeon common room.
But it was nice and quiet now. The students remaining were spread out and diligently studying, under the watchful eye of Madam Pince. The librarian offered Hermione a rare smile, a symbol of the underlying understanding between them.
Hermione smiled back, making her way through the shelves towards the lesser ventured areas of the library— towards her favourite study spot.
The lamps around the library were illuminating the space in their familiar welcoming way, providing a warmth against the dark and wintry weather through the windows. Hermione inhaled the comforting scent of parchment and old books. It never ceased to relax her.
As Hermione stepped out from between the bookshelves, she found the usual secluded table she liked to study at. She recognised the neat belongings arranged on one side of the table at once: Fleur. But the blonde was nowhere to be found.
Hermione chewed her bottom lip lightly as she stepped towards the table, confused.
"Hermione,"
Hermione turned around at the gentle, accented voice.
Fleur was standing in front of her, as radiant as always. However, her pretty features were marred with the unmistakeable signs of nervousness. Her blonde hair was pulled back for once, her features a little more pale than usual. Her long, dark eyelashes flickered as she frequently darted her eyes around the room nervously. Long, manicured fingers from one hand toyed nervously with a silver bracelet on her other wrist.
"Fleur," Hermione greeted, confused, "Are you okay?"
"Oui… Yes…" Fleur stepped forward, inhaling suddenly and drawing her shoulders back. She drew herself to her full height— a few centimetres taller than Hermione with her heels on.
Hermione cocked her head to one side. Fleur was acting strangely this evening. Maybe there was something to what Pansy had said earlier? Surely not…
"I… I'm aware we've been through some… difficulties," Fleur said awkwardly, inspecting some bookshelves to the side with extreme interest.
"Er… Yes," Hermione replied cautiously. She was suddenly, horribly, afraid they were about to rehash their past disagreements. They had only just appeared to have got past all the trust issues.
But then Fleur blushed.
"I… I find myself…" Fleur sighed, "Merde, this would be much easier in French."
"You can speak French to me," Hermione offered, now more than a little impatient to find out what was bothering the blonde.
"Non, non, I am working on my English," Fleur insisted with a dismissive wave of her hand, "I… I enjoyed kissing you the other evening."
Hermione felt a heat rush through her body as Fleur blushed further and shyly looked away. Suddenly the wintery weather and distant chatter around them died out as Hermione's mouth ran dry.
"I did too," Hermione replied, barely above a whisper.
"I recognise… That perhaps I find it hard to trust people," Fleur continued delicately, "And hard to move past when people have made mistakes."
"Fleur," Hermione's heart tweaked with guilt, "I'll spend the rest of my time with you making up for being so insensitive and stupid."
"Hermione Granger? Stupid?" Fleur smiled lightly, "What I am trying to say is… I… Ah…"
Fleur trailed off again, playing with her bracelet and a silver ring on her middle finger.
Pansy's words echoed in Hermione's mind again. Maybe it was really possible that Fleur, and other girls, could feel intimidated and nervous in front of her. Hermione felt a rare surge of self confidence.
"Be my partner to the Yule Ball," Hermione all but demanded, surprising herself with her own courage.
It was almost startling how Fleur's face burst into a radiant grin. Her hair almost seemed to shimmer and the air felt electric as she suddenly surged forward, pressing her lips gently against Hermione's.
Hermione smiled into the surprisingly gentle kiss. Fleur pulled away again, smiling serenely. Hermione reached up to stroke Fleur's cheek.
Hermione kissed Fleur back; a quick peck. She wanted nothing more than to pull Fleur in and kiss her as deeply as she had the other evening, though she knew the library was hardly the place. The last thing she wanted to do was traumatise the already crabby Madam Pince.
Though it was easy to forget that with the look in Fleur's azure eyes… The French student looked like she wanted to devour Hermione, and it was doing wild things to the brunette's senses.
Hermione was debating pulling the blonde in for a deeper kiss when a strange look flickered across Fleur's face and the blonde took a step back from her.
"I'm worried about hurting Julie," Fleur said, exhaling shakily, "She's my best friend."
Hermione nodded sympathetically. It was dreadful seeing how hurt Julie seemed to be by Fleur not returning her feelings.
"Well…" Hermione said slowly, "We can be careful to be respectful and not rub it in her face."
Fleur looked a little doubtful, but smiled.
"And save things like this for behind closed doors?" Fleur replied coyly, before closing the gap between them once more.
Hermione was overwhelmed as a soft tongue slipped into her mouth. She pulled the part-Veela properly into her arms, her heart pounding in her ears as she melted into the kiss.
Hermione stumbled backwards, her hands roaming down Fleur's back as the eager Veela pushed her against the library table. The sound of textbooks knocked loudly to the floor caused Hermione to jolt and push Fleur off her, breaking the kiss.
Fleur smirked like the cat that had got the cream, dabbing at her lipstick daintily.
"Fleur!" Hermione chastised in a whisper, "The least discreet thing we could do right now is have Madam Pince publicly tell us off for snogging in the library!"
"Hm, agreed," Fleur smiled coyly, "But Veela crave physical touch, you know?"
Hermione swallowed, once again feeling her hormones rage out of her control. She could feel her cheeks heating up, traitorously. Fleur giggled, reaching out and tugging playfully on Hermione's tie. Hermione's mind was aflood with all the ways she could assist Fleur with her high need for physical touch.
"I, uh…" Hermione cleared her throat, flustered.
"You're very cute, Hermione," Fleur said, releasing Hermione's tie and smiling broadly. She seemed more at ease now that Hermione had got just as flustered as she had when first coming across Hermione in the library.
"So, er, what now?" Hermione asked, her heart still thumping in her chest. Fleur quirked an eyebrow at her.
"Now we study, of course," Fleur responded simply, "You must retain your title as the Brightest Witch of your Age and I must remain ready for whatever the next Tournament Task is."
Fleur primly smoothed down her uniform before bending over to pick up the books that had been knocked off the table. Hermione inhaled sharply, averting her eyes from the sight of Fleur bending over in her uniform.
This witch was going to be the death of her.