Fleur was feeling rather good about the way things had turned out with Hermione. They had a friendly understanding and weren't actively ignoring or glaring at one another anymore. Perhaps they might actually be able to be friends. As much as she wanted to make this happen and spend time with the brunette witch, what she said after their duel was true. She had very little free time.
Madame Maxime had stuffed the gaps in her schedule with extra lessons and physical training to help her prepare for the first task. In addition to that, she had been given a month of "Abraxan Duty" for a month as punishment for speaking out after the Champion Selection Ceremony. This meant every evening was spent mucking out the stalls for the winged horses of Beauxbatons. Muggle style. With a shovel and pitchfork. It was hardly dignified work but she accepted her fate, knowing that things would be worse if she retaliated again. Her family bred horses at their estate, so she was used to having to do this anyway.
What free time she had was spent with Harry in their secret tutoring sessions. She was trying to help him with charms and spells that she thought would be useful to him. She knew he was powerful but he just hadn't learned as many spells as the other Champions, which put him at a steep disadvantage. She knew that Hermione was helping him too, which made her feel better about his situation. At least he had 2 people in his corner this time.
She still wasn't sure if the First Task would be a dragon fight again. She hoped so, it would make things much easier this time around since she already had experience. But so much about this timeline was different that she didn't want to assume anything. So until she had confirmation about dragons, she was going to work on perfecting her spells so that she was prepared for anything.
On November 17, a week prior to the First Task, Fleur was pulled out of her morning classes for the Weighing of the Wands and an 'exclusive interview' with Rita Skeeter. Fleur remembered the snake of a journalist who twisted words and spread slanderous rumors in her articles. She was not looking forward to this again. But at least she was prepared this time. She had crafted several carefully worded canned responses that would be impossible to misinterpret. There was still the chance of getting thrown a curveball, but she trusted herself to stay calm and keep a level head.
She quietly followed the young Hufflepuff student that had been sent to collect her from her morning Herbology class. From her previous time she knew that she would still have to go to her final class of the day, which in this case was History of Magic class. She wasn't sure what she was dreading more: talking to Skeeter or having to endure the most boring lecture in the history of classes. The ghost professor usually spent the entire time just droning on and on with his back to the class. Half the students were asleep or doing something else and a couple of brave souls even left shortly after attendance was taken. Even Hermione seemed to struggle to stay focused. So she spent her quiet walk thinking of ways she could liven things up and make the class more entertaining for herself.
She was the second Champion to arrive, Krum was standing quietly in a corner, leaning against the walls. His arms were folded across his broad chest and his eyes were closed. Fleur wondered if he was asleep or meditating. She knew that despite his fame, he was actually rather shy and reserved. The two would become better friends after the First Task, bonding over the experience of having to face down a living, breathing dragon. But until then, she was content to just let him stew in his own little world. He didn't even stir when the door opened and Cedric and Harry arrived.
Ludo Bagman and Barty Crouch arrived next, followed by the three school Heads and an elderly man with wispy tufts of white hair. Ollivander, she remembered. Last to enter was a younger woman with fake bleach blonde hair, curled up in an elaborate yet tacky updo. While Fleur usually tried to not judge people by their looks, she couldn't help that everything about Rita Skeeter put a bad taste in her mouth. From her satin green robes looked like over ripe limes to her horn rimmed glasses. Her plump lips were coated in an excessive amount of red lipstick and the corners of her mouth were twisted in a wicked smirk as she looked over the assembled Champions. She took a deep breath to calm herself.
"Good day Champions, good day indeed!" Bagman started the events. "Today we will be inspecting your wands for their properties and to ensure that they are all in proper working order. Wouldn't want you to go wandering into the First Task unprepared now, would we?"
Fleur scoffed quietly to herself. She noticed Maxime flash her a dangerous glare out of the corner of her eye and she straightened up immediately. She still had 12 days of Abraxan duty and she didn't want any more time added to her punishment.
Bagman continued, unaware of the exchange between the Frenchwomen. "First a group picture and then you will meet with Ollivander to have your wands checked and then you will go with Ms. Skeeter from the Daily Prophet for your exclusive interview. She has designated a private room to conduct her interviews so that you will feel most comfortable to share your thoughts with her.
The four Champions assembled and took their places, taking cues from the photographer. Fleur stared directly ahead, not fully smiling, giving more of a defiant and proud expression. After the picture was taken, Skeeter strutted over to them and looked them all up and down as if appraising items for an auction.
"What a charismatic quartet. I for one cannot wait to speak to each of you one-on-one." Her voice was sickeningly sweet and her scent overwhelming. Skeeter was very heavy handed with her perfume and it made Fleur want to gag a little. "My ravenous readers want to know about what it takes to be a Champion… all that brawn and beauty…" she cupped Fleur's cheek and then slapped it softly.
Fleur was seething. How dare this woman touch her without her permission?! Her Veela demanded retribution but she just clenched her jaw and sat quietly doing a breathing exercise instead of ripping the woman's head off.
"Wonderful, I'm sure that picture will be front page worthy! Now, the Wand Ceremony. As always, ladies first. Miss Delacour, if you would, please?" Bagman gestured for her to come forward but Fleur did not move. She remembered that Skeeter's 'private interview space' was a broom cupboard and she did not want to deal with that again. Nor did she want Harry to be stuck with that snake. At least this way he would have witnesses. "Non. I shall speak with Ollivander, but I would much prefer to conduct my interview een zis room."
"Why, Miss Delacour, what are you saying? I assure you that this is for the best. You wouldn't want the other Champions to overhear you, now would you?"
Fleur shook her head in the direction of the platinum blonde. "I shall not be discussing my strategies wizz you and whatever I say shall be put een print anyway, so ze ozzer Champions will read eet, non? I 'ave nozzing to 'ide and I am much more comfortable in zis room. I like ze natural light, don't you agree?" She saw Dumbledore give her a subtle nod of agreement.
Skeeter opened her mouth and closed it several times as she tried to come up with a counterargument. She reminded Fleur very much of a fish. If fish wore clothes and glasses. "Very well, Miss Delacour. I would be glad to oblige your request. I shall wait over here for when you are finished with Ollivander."
Fleur nodded, satisfied with the outcome and gave the quietly fuming blonde woman a smug smirk for good measure. She was on to this woman and she was not going to allow her to manipulate their words like last time.
She stepped forward and approached Ollivander, who had taken a seat at a nearby desk. She proudly held out her wand to him and watched as he cradled it like it was the most precious object on earth.
"Mmm… not one of mine I see…" Ollivander tutted then began visually inspecting the wand for a few moments as he ran his long slender fingers along the length. After that, he held it up to his ear, twisting it slightly. He pursed his lips and nodded, as if he was having a silent conversation.
"Interesting, this is a powerful wand. 9 and a half inches and rosewood. A very finicky wood to work with, not one that I personally use. It is… inflexible. The wand is loyal to you and I believe it is capable of great magic, particularly charms and healing. This is a wand of light and love, not easily used for the Dark Arts. Not that I would ever imagine you would delve into such endeavors… The core though is very intriguing… a material most rare… few wandmakers ever have the pleasure to work with such a material."
Fleur nodded, noting that all eyes in the room were watching their interaction. She held her head high and answered the question the onlookers were silently asking. "Oui, ze core ees a Veela 'air." She heard Skeeter gasp in the corner followed by the feverish scratching of quill on parchment.
Ollivander smiled and gave the wand a wide flourish, creating a beautiful array of flowers. "Yes, exceptional for charms indeed. Miss Delacour, thank you and I wish you well in the upcoming Tasks you face." He handed the wand back to her, intricately carved hilt first.
She took the wand back and casually strapped it into the holster on her forearm before moving to speak with Skeeter. She gave the seated woman the slightest head nods to acknowledge her existence as she took a seat opposite of her.
Rita was staring daggers, as if trying to read Fleur's mind. Fortunately, she was well practiced in the art of Occlumency and had very strong mental walls. There would be no mind reading today. "Right, Miss Delacour… you don't mind if I use a Quick Quotes Quill do you?" she gestured to a bright green animated quill hovering over a scroll of parchment on the desk.
"I would prefer eef you took ze notes by 'and, zank you very much."
"Indeed. Well, you are the Champion after all." Rita scowled but picked up the quill, which went still in her hand. "So, Miss Delacour, what compelled you to enter such a dangerous and daring tournament?"
Fleur smiled, exuding faux sweetness "Compelled ees not ze right word. I entered of my own volition and een sound mind, body, and spirit. Ze Triwizard Tournament ees an esteemed tradition zat challenges ze strongest and most capable to bring 'onor to zeir school. I believe zat I 'ave what eet takes to be a strong competitor and weeshed only for ze opportunity to prove myself. I am grateful for ze opportunity to represent ze Beauxbatons Academy of Magic."
Rita scribbled feverishly "Are you concerned about the competition?"
"We were all selected for a reason. Eet would be unwise to underestimate ze ozzer Champions. If ze Goblet of Fire deemed us all worzzy, zen I shall consider zem such as well."
Rita took a little longer to write after that response. Fleur noted that she was writing much more than she thought necessary for the response given.
Rita finished her thought with a wide flourish of her quill. "So, I heard you mention you are of Veela heritage?"
Fleur fixed her icy blue eyes on Skeeter. "Non, I simply said zat my wand core ees Veela 'air."
"But you must have connections, then. From what I hear, Veela like to keep it in the family. So whoever gave that hair must be important to you. A parent, perhaps? Grandmother even?"
Fleur simply stared at the reporter "I will neither confirm or deny zat. Take eet as you will, I know you've already made assumptions about me and eet ees pointless to try to convince you ozzerwise."
A wicked smile graced the faux-blonde's lips. "How do you think that will affect your performance in the tournament?"
Fleur didn't allow herself to react. She knew this was coming, she had dealt with prejudice like this all her life. "I do not understand. I fail to see 'ow my 'eritage 'as any influence on my performance in ze tournament."
"I meant because your fellow Champions are all men."
"Your point?" Fleur responded stiffly.
Rita smiled innocently "Well between us girls, you must know that most people are going to expect you to just roll over and take it on your back. Especially with your alleged Veela origins."
Fleur clenched her jaw and her eyes flashed dangerously before she could school her reaction. "I do not appreciate what you are insinuating, Mademoiselle Skeeter. I am a talented and accomplished witch. Ozzerwise ze Goblet would not 'ave selected me to represent my Academy. And I intend to prove zat to everyone." She stood up swiftly and elegantly, effectively ending the interview, ignoring Rita's shocked expression.
As she strode by the other woman, she leaned down and whispered in her ear "and I do not take eet on my back. I prefer to stand, zank you very much."
With that she swept out of the room and returned to the Carriage until her next class. So much for keeping her cool.
She found Evangeline in the common space in the Carriage and sat with her friend to vent about the infuriating reporter. She knew Evangeline would understand the frustrations she felt about people's opinions about Veela.
After a light lunch she headed to History of Magic, looking forward to seeing Hermione to take her mind off things.
Hermione was worried about Harry's interview with Skeeter. She knew that last time the shifty journalist had written an entire page spread on him being a suspect entrant into the Tournament and effectively cast doubt about his ability and motives. She had made him sound like a naive boy who was desperate for fame and glory. It definitely did him no favors with the other Hogwarts students, who already thought of him as a cheat and a liar.
She was feeling better about his preparedness this time around. He seemed to have a much better handle on charms that she had planned on teaching him, like the Summoning Charm, which he had used last time to call his Firebolt to the arena. She felt like someone might be helping him, but when she asked about it, he simply shook his head and gave a vague response.
She stabbed at her pork chop in the Great Hall while she waited for him to come back. What would Skeeter do this time? She was surprised when Harry joined her, looking rather pleased.
"Good interview?" Hermione quirked an eyebrow in confusion about his mood and demeanor.
Harry shrugged and grabbed a sandwich off the tray "I think it went alright. Dumbledore backed me up on a few points, so that was nice."
Hermione spewed her sip of pumpkin juice, grateful that no one was sitting close to them. "What? Dumbledore was there?"
"Yeah, all of us were there together."
Hermione blinked "I thought it was supposed to be a private interview?"
"It was, but Fleur made a stink about going into a separate room, so they let us stay."
"Oh, that's interesting…" Hermione was interrupted by a flash of red.
"What did Phlegm do this time?"
"She was actually very strategic and she does not deserve to be called that, Ginerva Weasley."
"Oi, no need to snatch my head off…" Ginny rolled her eyes and started loading her plate.
"I'm just saying that she's a Champion for a reason and deserves a little respect." Hermione retorted quickly.
"Why do you care anyway?" Ginny muttered grumpily and took a large bite of sandwich.
Harry cleared his throat awkwardly, trying to move the conversation to less heated waters "Did you know that she really is part-Veela? She said it out loud and everything! Though I guess it was kind of obvious, when you think about it."
"Damn it! I owe Ron a sickle." Ginny groaned and got up to find her prat of a brother, who was sitting on the opposite end of the long table with Seamus and Dean.
Hermione nodded once Ginny was gone "Yeah, it came up the other day." She hadn't really had a chance to talk with Harry about Fleur, nor did she want to. She was not about to gush about her crush to her teenage best friend.
Harry nodded as he chewed "Oh, hey, Hagrid wanted to show me something later tonight. Wanna come?"
Hermione shook her head "No, I'm really behind on my classes. 7th year lessons are tough..." she lied, but judging by the look of understanding, Harry seemed to accept her response.
"Right, well, I'll fill you in later then."
Hermione smiled "Thanks, and please tell Hagrid I said hi will you?"
"You got it."
Hermione finished lunch with Harry and hurried off to History of Magic. She also brought a large tome she had been reading through that contained theories about alternate universes and dimensions.
She sat in her usual spot and took out a roll of parchment, her inkwell and a fresh quill. Professor Binns rarely paid attention to what people were actually doing in his class, so she figured that as long as she looked busy, she wouldn't raise any suspicions.
She pulled out her extra reading and started digging in, speaking only to answer Binns' roll call when her name was said.
She was hastily reading and taking notes on her parchment, her fingers stained with ink. She was so focused that she almost shrieked in surprise when letters started forming on her parchment. She had a healthy distrust of magic ink, remembering Harry's experience with Riddle's diary in their second year together.
She stared intently as she watched the eloquent script form a message before her eyes.
"Hello Hermione. What are you working on so intently? Clearly not this lecture."
Hermione blinked and looked up, cautiously peering around the classroom but not wanting to raise any suspicion. It seemed that whoever sent the message was in the classroom. Instinctively she gripped her wand under the desk, preparing for any unexpected attack. A moment later the original message disappeared and a new one formed.
"To your left. And I thought we agreed for you to not hex me, please."
Hermione blinked and looked to her left only to see a very smug looking Fleur smiling at her. She rolled her eyes and mouthed "Cocky git." which caused the Champion to giggle into her hand.
"This is much better, non?"
Hermione just smiled and nodded. A moment later a transference spell appeared on her parchment. She knew the spell of course, but her 15 year old self wouldn't. She was glad that Fleur had offered it, otherwise the conversation would have been rather one sided. She quickly cast the spell and started shooting back messages in her own tidy script.
"Very clever. Normally I would reprimand you for not paying attention in class, but this is painful."
"Indeed. So, what are you working on?"
"Research for Transfiguration essay." Hermione lied. There was no reason she should be reading anything about alternate dimensions and while she and the French girl had a sort of truce, she didn't trust her quite yet.
The two passed the rest of the class sending secret messages to one another. Hermione had to admit that Fleur was right, it was a much better way to spend her time.