Love Hurts…

The next week was spent fairly quiet for Fleur, feeling a bit better now that she had added a few layers to her usual uniform, no longer wearing the hat and weaponry as it is only used for ceremonies and such. The only excitement of the week was the eagerness permeating in the air as students from the three schools dropped their names into the Goblet. She had seen the redhead, Ron, do it while a very displeased Hermione looked on. 'I wonder why she looks so annoyed', Fleur contemplated.

Harry, on the other side, had just shaken his head when Ron had told him to put his name as well. He believed he had had enough brushes with death as it is. 'No need to go looking for trouble now.' He mused. The previous years had been peaceful and he wanted to keep it that way.

Fleur had kept stealing glances at the Gryffindor table during breakfast, lunch and dinner time. Her sister, having decided to sit with her as from now, was asking tons of questions that she didn't have answers to. She had written letters to her grand-mère and maman as soon as she could and had entrusted her female gyrfalcon, Artemis, with the mail. She desperately needed answers. She had also observed the girl and saw that she spent a lot of time in the Hogwarts' library. That explained why she was currently sitting in the said library, hiding behind a book, surreptitiously watching the brunette engrossed in a thick tome at a table in a corner, somewhat secluded by a few bookcases.

Taking a deep breath, she gathered all the courage she could find in every cell of her body and stood up, walking to the brunette, briefly noticing Krum, from the corner of her eyes, who was standing behind one of the bookcases.

"Bonjour, Mademoiselle Granger. It iz a pleazure to see you again," said Fleur, giving her a smile.

Hermione looked up from her book when the accented voice reached her ears. Frowning lightly, she curtly replied, "Hello, Miss Delacour," before concentrating back at her book.

"Ah, please call me Fleur. May I sit 'ere?" asked Fleur, clasping her hands together to stop herself from fidgeting.

Looking back at the blonde, Hermione tried her best not to roll her eyes. She just nodded before going back again to her reading.

Fleur was feeling quite uncomfortable with the way the girl was dismissing her but she persevered. Seating herself onto the bench facing the girl, "What iz it that you are reading, Mademoiselle Granger?" she asked conversationally. She wanted so badly for Hermione to talk to her.

"Advanced Charms, Tome Ten by Neil Alderwidge" muttered Hermione, "and you can call me Hermione." Hearing Mademoiselle Granger was raking onto her nerves. Can't she see she is disturbing me? Her frown deepened.

"'Ermione" voiced Fleur for the first time. She had known the name since the first day but never used it to address Hermione but now she loved the way it tasted in her mouth, "Izn't zat a lot more advanced. I hear zhey use zis book for Charms Mastery?"

Lifting her head, Hermione was about to go into a rant about the fact that she was knowledgeable enough to read it when she saw the sincere curiosity in the cerulean eyes in front of her. "I have already read it a lot of times and learnt quite a few spells from it. I have an interest in all things and this is the highest level tome I could find. I have already read everything else."

Amazed by the intelligence and the skill of the Gryffindor, Fleur could only stare. She loved magic in general and was quite an avid learner of anything she could get her hands on. She had already read the book herself. The spells in it were complicated and here there was a girl, similar to her, trying to master it all. "I am very impressed, 'Ermione! Ze spells in it are very difficult."

"You have read it?" Hermione asked, sceptically.

"Ah, I am ze same as you. I 'ave a similar thirst of knowledge and ze book is a fascinating read. I am still debating if I want to do a Mastery zhough and if so, in what..." explained Fleur, happy that they had something in common.

Hermione nodded, impressed by the admission of the blonde. She had rarely met people who read material so above their year. Most people didn't want to pursue masteries but still, that was not enough for her to stop feeling the dislike she had for the blonde.

Seeing that the girl had gone silent, Fleur felt like the discussion was dying. Searching her brain for something to say she came up with, "'Ave you 'eared about ze book 'Ultimate Charms' by Anaquinn Dyagronn?"

"Oh!" exclaimed Hermione surprised at the mention, "that is the most amazing book for Charms, very well acclaimed. Anaquinn Dyagronn is one of the greatest Mistress of Charms to be known! There are only a few copies of the book!" she said, "I have looked for it but they don't have it here in Hogwarts" she sighed, shoulder drooping, "I even tried to find one to buy but there is no copy on the market" she said dejectedly.

"Ah, it iz indeed a rare book..." answered Fleur, smiling at the idea that popped into her head. She was about to say something else when the bell rang, announcing the start of the next period.

"Fleur, I have to go to my next class. It was nice talking to you," lied Hermione, trying to keep face neutral as she packed her stuff. Fleur didn't notice.

"Allow me to walk you zhere, 'Ermione. After all, we 'ave ze same class," replied Fleur happily.

Hermione inwardly sighed. How could she forget?! She shared so many classes with the Ravenclaws this year and now with Beauxbatons. It had been a relief to learn that she would not have to share those classes with the Slytherins this year (she still had a few classes with them) but now she wasn't so sure it was a good thing.

Dinner that evening had been fairly pleasant. Fleur, being in a good mood, had taken the courage to try some of the English dishes available on the Ravenclaw table, smiling at the Gryffindor table each time her eyes would meet chocolate brown.

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The next day, Fleur knew, from her observations last week, in which period she would be able to find the brunette in the library. She had just finished Transfiguration class. She had observed the Gryffindor seated way in front with her friends throughout class. She didn't get the chance to approach the brunette after class, which was why she was currently walking in the hallways to the library. She could not stop smiling, thinking about the package she had in her bag.

No sooner had she walked into the place that she saw the bushy brown-haired girl at her same table, writing on a piece of parchment accompanied by Harry Potter. Fleur didn't let that deter her approach. She walked towards the table, remarking Krum sitting a few tables away. She frowned slightly at his presence.

"Bonjour Monsieur Potter. Bonjour 'Ermione" she greeted the table's occupants with a smile.

"Hello, Miss Delacour" smiled Harry. Hermione looked up from her work with a grimace.

"Oh please call me Fleur"

"Then call me Harry," replied Harry.

"Ok 'Arry. What are you two doing?" she asked, interestedly peering in the parchments scattered on the table.

"We are writing our essay for Potions," grumbled Hermione, getting annoyed at the interruption of the French girl.

"Ah, I 'ope it iz going well. 'Ermione, I 'ave somezing…," started Fleur as she rummaged through her bag.

"No, it is not going well" Hermione cut her off, "As you can see, you are disturbing us." She pointed out irritably.

Harry looked at his best friend in shock. He could not believe the way the brunette was speaking. He had never seen her be so rude to someone, for what looked like nothing before.

"Oh…" Hurt flashed into the cerulean eyes, "I am sorry. I shall leave you to your work," apologised Fleur softly, bowing before turning to leave.

She then remembered again the package inside her bag. Taking it out, she turned back to the brunette, who was already back to writing on her parchment, "I just 'ave to give you…"

"Lord! Didn't I just tell you to stop disturbing me!?" shouted Hermione, eyes blazing with anger, pissed that the French couldn't get a hint that she didn't want her presence around her.

Fleur froze. Her heart constricted sharply with pain and her eyes prickled. She blinked to keep her emotions within.

Harry froze stunned, eyes wide, aghast by Hermione's behaviour.

"I...I am…so..sorry," whispered Fleur, "I just…wanted…" taking a deep breath, she exhaled and composed herself before finishing, "for you to 'ave zis." Placing the package gently onto the table, the blonde briskly walked out of the library.

Hermione sat staring at the exit Fleur had made before looking at the package in front of her. It was rectangular, wrapped in light blue paper with a silver bow on top. A present.

"What's gotten into you? That was really harsh, Hermione," said Harry, baffled at his friend's behaviour.

"Uh…" Hermione was speechless, her eyes still locked on the package. She wasn't sure. It was like a rage had welled up inside her at the presence of the blonde. She hadn't been able to control it.

Checking the time, Harry said, "It is time for my Quidditch practice. I need to go." He said as he started shoving his things into his bag. "Uhm, I'll see you later at dinner, Hermione," he said, not knowing what else he could say. Hermione just nodded silently and with that, Harry left the library to go to the Quidditch pitch.

Hermione kept staring at the gift on the table for a few minutes before she took the courage to take it into her hands, it was thick and heavy. She saw a card tapped to it. Opening it, it read:

I hope you enjoy it. It is yours now.

~ Fleur

Carefully tugging at the bow and unwrapping the paper, she inhaled sharply at seeing what she held in her hands. It was a green leather hardcover tome, reading 'Ultimate Charms - Anaquinn Dyagronn'. It looked like a well-loved book. The pages were yellowed and the corners looked used as if someone had turned those pages countless times. Opening it, her eyes opened wide at the words, 'First Edition'. In her hand, she held a priceless book. There were only a few copies left of this book and they were rare and expensive. A first edition was rarer than rare. Her hands tightened onto the book, heart filled up with guilt at the way she had just treated the Beauxbatons student. Turning one more page, she gasped inwardly the words written there:

Ce livre appartient à Fleur Delacour. N'y toucher pas! :)

[This book belongs to Fleur Delacour. Do not touch it! :) ]

The words were obviously French written in a slightly childish scrawl indicating that the book had been Fleur's for a while. The ink was a bit faded with a childish smiley doodle at the end.

Underneath it was written:

This book now belongs to Hermione Granger. :D

The new English words were fresh, the ink sharp and bold against the old page, written in elegant cursive penmanship and the smiley was funny, a lot better drawn than the last one.

The guilt that descended on her heart nearly suffocated her. She couldn't believe how she had treated the girl. Fleur had done nothing to her and had been polite and kind each time and yet she had let an unfounded dislike creep into her heart and had hurt the girl badly. Tears dripped down her face and she hastily wiped them so as not to wet the precious book. Nobody had ever gifted her something so priceless before. It wasn't the price or the rarity of the item that moved her. It was the fact that she had been gifted a book that was very well-loved by its previous owner. She knew how hard it was to part from a favourite book and for Fleur to have done it so easily for her, despite not knowing her well… She couldn't imagine… Reverently closing the book, she slid it gently into her bag and decided to pack to go find the blonde to apologise profusely.

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After walking away from the library, Fleur found herself sitting close to the lake that was on the Hogwarts' ground, far from where the Durmstrang ship was anchored. The ground was cold and wet and there was a chilly wind blowing but she didn't care. The water from the ground was seeping into her clothes while her cloak gave little protection against the harsh wind. The mind was telling her that she was supposed to be feeling cold but yet she felt none of it. All she could feel was acute pain and it was all centred in her heart.

The wind was whipping her hair and wiping her silent tears harshly from her face. It was getting darker as dinner time approached but she saw no difference as her tears blurred her vision. She felt like she no longer needed answers from her mother and grandmother because the searing pain in her chest finally clued her in.

My mate...I love her…and she hates me. The thought itself was nearly too painful to bear.

She sat there for hours, skipping dinner and even waiting till all of Beauxbatons had already gone back to the carriage and into their rooms before she slipped inside her room silently, spending the rest of the night in soundless tears. Sleep eluded her.

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Hermione had looked everywhere. She had even asked a few of the Beauxbatons students she had come across while running in the hallways if they had seen Fleur but no one had seen the elusive French blonde. She had thought, after searching to no avail, that she would see the girl at dinner time and had even formulated a plan on how to approach and apologise to the girl but yet, no sign of Fleur as she sat at the Gryffindor table.

Dinner had been a quiet affair, with Harry not prompting her for a conversation for fear of her bursting into another rage and reacting the same way she had done with Fleur earlier while Hermione just tuned out Ron. Pushing her food around on her plate, Hermione excused herself early to go back to her room, she wasn't feeling hungry anyway.

As she changed and climbed into her bed, she closed the curtains around the four-poster bed. Her stomach was upset, her heart was upset. She was feeling so guilty to have treated Fleur so badly. She didn't even know why she did it. She even felt bad that Fleur had skipped dinner which, she was sure, was because of her. Do they have food in their carriage? Did she go to sleep on an empty stomach..? I hurt her…

The thoughts didn't help and kept on adding onto her conscience. That night, Hermione didn't sleep.

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The next morning, Fleur knew that she couldn't skip breakfast as all the Beauxbatons girls gathered in front of the carriage with Madame Maxime to go to the castle for food. Taking a shower and changing into a clean uniform, she checked herself into the mirror. Her eyes were bloodshot and puffy. Everyone would ask what happened.

Sure, they all asked, even the headmistress and she came up with the excuse that she was probably coming down with a cold from the harsh weather in England. They all bought the excuse, except Alexia, Gabrielle and the rest of her flock who were looking at her with concerned and questioning eyes but Fleur didn't want to talk about it and they didn't press.

Sitting at the Ravenclaw table, more questions were asked by her new Ravenclaw friends and she fed them the same story. Breakfast had already been laid onto the table but she didn't feel hungry. She did have to eat though due to the forcing from Gabrielle and Alexia who were seated beside her, flanking her and making sure she was eating.

For the whole of the meal, she didn't look at the Gryffindor table at all. She just couldn't. She had used all her courage yesterday and the day before to approach the brunette and the outcome had sucked all wind from her sails. She felt bone-weary. Rubbing her temple, she tried to shake out the fogginess in her head.

ᴥ

At the Gryffindor table, Hermione was faring no better with her breakfast. She had nibbled a little bit on her eggs but had stopped when she felt them settle heavily in her stomach. She had been staring at the blonde the whole time and yet the blonde hadn't looked at her even once. For every meal that they had attended in the Great Hall, the blonde had at least glanced at her once and smiled, even if Hermione hadn't returned the smile. Today, there was nothing, not a glance, not a smile, absolutely nothing. She could still see from where she was, the puffy and bloodshot eyes along with the slumped shoulders. She hated herself because she knew she was the cause of it. She was observing how the tall darker blonde girl next to Fleur was urging her to eat while a smaller copy of Fleur was putting more food onto Fleur's plate. Hermione wanted to go and apologise but she now felt cowardly, having lost all her courage not wanting to do it in front of everyone.

She looked on as the blonde pushed her plate away and argued with the two girls beside her. The blonde then took out a piece of parchment and a quill and scribbled something.

As the tables were cleared, Hermione urged her friends to go to class, claiming she would be following them shortly. She hoped that she could catch Fleur with a smaller entourage and surprisingly enough, the blonde stood up and walked in the opposite direction to her friends. Zigzagging through the current of students that were going against her, Hermione followed Fleur but stopped when she realised that the blonde had stopped in front of the Goblet of Fire and was watching it intently. Her breath caught in her throat and suddenly, Hermione felt a wave of dizziness crash into her body.

She watched as the blonde lifted the piece of parchment she had scribbled on earlier, closer to the blue flames and Hermione wanted to scream! NO! Yet the word caught inside her throat, lodging there permanently as she watched, with unexplained horror, the blue flames lick the blonde's fingers and swallow the parchment.

After the tournament had been announced, Hermione had gone into the library to do some research on the competition and had found horrible things. She didn't get how people could think of such a barbaric event as legendary and decide to revive it again. People had died! Ron had been so excited to put his name in the Goblet. She had pleaded Ron not to. Why play with death? Hadn't they barely escaped it so many times since they came to Hogwarts? But the redhead hadn't listened and she had watched helplessly as the blue flames ate up his name. She feared for him but yet the fear that she had felt for one of her best friends felt like nothing compared to the unexpected terror that gripped her heart as she watched Fleur enter her name into the Goblet of Fire. What is happening to me? The dizziness gripped her and the hall started swaying around her. Trying to keep her balance, she didn't feel her bag slip off her shoulder nor did she hear the sound of it hitting the floor. All she felt was herself falling as darkness crept into her vision, something warm wrapping itself around her waist and neck.