Muggles call it Fate.

Hermione shifted in her chair for the fifth time that hour and cursed under her breath while doing so, she has gotten through only half of the material she planned on covering that afternoon. She breathed out a sigh in desperation to relax as her mind then registered the six heavy boulders like text that lay piled and unmoved on the corner of her table. She sighed again.

Normally she would have finished her potions assignments and gone through half of her previews of upcoming classes, but today was different there was just something wrong - with the seat. She shifted again in the straight backed library chair, but was unable to find comfort. With everything that had happened lately the incident at the Quidditch World Cup, Death Eaters, and the return of Voldmort, Harry's potential safety…her mind raced and the usual bearable quiet chatters of students were now like heavy machinery, rampaging through her unstable state of mind breaking her last attempt to concentrate.

She frowned. She wished there was something she could do, at least about the irritating chatters. But unfortunately there was nothing she could do. Just like how blind and helpless everyone is to the return of 'He, whom shall not be named'. Sure Hermione could invest hours and hours reading up on potions and defence charms, and spells that would aid her friends in needy times but there are just so many charms to remember and so many people to watch out for.

She thought as a bitter smile crept up her face.

It felt as if each year at Hogwarts, the tunnel gets darker and deeper leading through the unexpecting path of destiny. And it would only get worse. She felt like a blinded bird with cemented wings, absolutely no way out. And the worst of all was, there wasn't a said obligation for her to contribute – it was simply in her nature, or she guessed in the nature of any true friendship to care and support each other like how she supported Harry and Ron.

. No-one voices it or asks her but the silent expectations make her duties crystal clear. Not that she was complaining or regretting, it was simply she was beginning to feel like she has reached a limit. She was 14 for Merlin's sake. Couldn't she enjoy the normalities of a 14 year old girl's life? Like only have to focus on school and finding love, or at least have an unjustified crush on an unsuspecting boy, then shyly telling him years after.

But her life was far from normal and simple pleasures, and she knows it. She knew it all along, long before she got the letter from Hogwarts, or when she met Harry and Ron, somehow deep inside she knew there was.

No need wishing for it then.

She lowered her head and rested her chin on her arm, fixed her gaze on the half written parchment before her, trying to block out all that's around her. With quill in hand, eyes mirroring the page, she sat there motionless, blending into the lifelessness of the library at dusk, allowing her mind to drifting far away from troubles.

"'Mione! I knew you would be here,"

She jerked up like an overly excited spring coil and knocked over the pile of unread books on her table, earning her unwanted attention from the whole library. .

"You scared me Ron," She whispered harshly at him, trying to ignore glares from the rest of the room. She focused on Ron's face. "What is it?"

Her first instinct told her something was up. Her mind automatically generated the worst case scenario.

"Is Harry alright?"

"Why wouldn't he be? Gee Hermione you are so uptight, I'm just here telling you tonight is the grand dinner you don't want to be late, everyone is already there."

"What?" Hermione blinked twice.

"Durmstrang and this other school, but KRUM! Viktor Krum will be there! And knowing I'll be sitting in the same room with him for dinner. Golly!" Ron said keeping his voice barely within the range of a whisper.

"Oh of course." Hermione slapped her forehead. Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, two visiting schools that had arrived in this very morning, how could she forget the spectacular sight this morning? Durmstrang put on quite a show with the dark almost pirate like ship and Beauxbaton, with their horse drawn carriage and…

"Delacour, Fleur Delacour, of Beauxbatons"

Hermione shook her head as the voice repeated through her head causing her heart to turn a three sixty.

She would be there…of course she would why wouldn't she? The last thing I need is to see that French snob.

"You know what Ron, I'm not that hungry." She said as her stomach growled.

"But KRUM! THIS COULD BE ONCE IN A LIFE TIME EVENT!!" He screamed enthusiastically forgetting to whisper.

"Shh!" came the warning from the librarian and Hermione's eyes darted back to the books on the table.

"Oh Come on 'Mione! Charms and work can wait." He said as he helped Hermione with her books.

"It's okay I've already saw Krum at the Quidditch world cup," Then she turned serious. "AND IF YOU HAVEN'T FORGOTTEN, Death eaters have been regrouped by the return of 'you know who' on that same night! We'll never know when or where they might strike again, so we-I should prepare."

"Fine," Ron replied with a hurt look on his face and put down the books he gathered up just a second ago.

Hermione felt a pang of guilt as she realised she had just dumped all her pent up frustration and worry all on Ron – who with all the good intentions, and had troubled himself to call her to dinner.

"You know what, I'll race you!" Hermione said with a glint in her eyes and took off.

"Hey! That's not fair! What am I suppose to do with all your books?" Ron called after her.

'Now what am I doing here.' She thought as she sat in the Gryffindor table with her friends.

"I like to make an announcement," Dumbledore spoke from the podium. She listened but was interrupted by Ron's anticipating rant on Krum.

"Krum, when is he coming?" Ron leaned in and asked the table.

"Asking three times every minute isn't going to bring Krum here any sooner," replied Ginny, obviously annoyed at her brother's blinding worship of the Quidditch player. Hermione zoned back to what Dumbledore was saying.

"The TriWizard tournament brings together three schools for a series of magical contests, from each school a single student is selected to compete…"

Hermione looked over to Harry who seemed to be very entertained by what Dumbledore was saying.

"And trust me when I say these contests are not for the faint hearted, but more of that later," He paused briefly. "And now, please join me in welcoming the lovely ladies of the Beauxbatons academy of magic,"

The door to the great hall was then opened. And that was all Hermione needed to hear as her eyes scanned the group of students in light blue silk robes. She blinked as the girls entered with their choreographed dance – the whole Hogwarts seemed to have been wowed, but she thought they are simply trying to hard with the entrance.

"Oh bloody hell!" exclaimed Ron with a gaping mouth, who seems to have temporally if not permanently forgotten the existence of Krum. Hermione looked over to Harry whose expression wasn't all that different from Ron's.

She exchanged looks with Ginny.

"Boys, they are so rude" she muttered all knowingly, less than impressed by their hormonal responses. She returned her attention to the Beauxbatons dancers just in time to see who she was waiting for, except she was accompanied by another girl, who was much shorter and younger, and who seemed to be her sister.

Hermione shifted her focus back on Fleur as the French witch gracefully and almost effortlessly glided into the Great Hall, perfecting every dance move as if she was a professional dancer. The whole room fell silent with admiration, no longer the jeers and rude comments from the male population of Hogwarts. They were all under Fleur's charms. She wondered about the looks on the boys' face now, but her gaze was transfixed on Fleur's elegant ballet and was reluctant to deviate away from the French Witch.

No way, she's way better than a professional dancer, or any dancer for that mattered.

Hermione concluded in her head as she felt the urgent need to turn her unimpressed look into an amazed and approving expression.

Remember she's a snob! An airhead!

Hermione's mind screamed, as Fleur bowed, the room was still silent with astonishment, as if waiting for the French Witch to disappear into thin air like a dream that she seemed to be.

Hermione's logical protest had proven itself to be utterly useless as Hermione's observant eyes lingered on Fleur for longer than they should.


Is it just me or does it seems like she is looking for someone?

Hermione thought as the French witch's icy blue eyes scanned the crowd.

And it didn't help one bit as Fleur's actively probing orbs stopped toward her direction. More precisely, Hermione dared to suspect, on her. Suddenly she felt as if the noises in the Great Hall were all drowning out, all it contained now was only Fleur and herself, and for a single second she felt an unexplainable force drawing her closer.

No it can't possibly be. Why would she look at me? She probably hates my guts. After all she did make that loud and clear this afternoon. Then she wouldn't look at you! Urgh! Enough!

Curiosity got the best of Hermione, to test her suspicions, Hermione sneaked a smile towards the front of the room; it wasn't like anyone was paying attention to her anyways.

Fleur smiled back, the room roared.

Hermione looked away, angry at herself for doing what she had just did, she didn't need Fleur's attention, or to have Fleur get the wrong idea that there could or would be any sort of positive social interaction between them in the future.

She can be her self proclaimed high class snob. She thought with an hmpf.

"Did you see that? She 'looked' at me?" Ron pointed out proudly.

"Don't give yourself too much credit Ronald; she was probably just looking for the nearest exit when she saw you." Ginny chimed in bursting her brother's bubble.

"Oh come on, she too looked at me, you saw right Harry?" Ron nodded toward his best friend.

Harry looked at Ron and nodded half-heartedly.

"'Mione?" Ron nodded at Hermione looking for the slightest assurance that somehow Fleur had looked at him.

"Does it really matter that much? So what if she looked at you briefly and so what if she didn't, it's not like she wants to date you or anything." Hermione managed to choke out between laughters.

"Well, I say it's a start!" Ron replied his jaw still hanging as he peered to the now sitting Fleur at the Ravenclaw table.

The rest of the introductions went by rather quickly. Durmstrang arrived, and Krum did eventually show up. Hermione was rather surprised that Ron didn't faint when he saw him, but was simply the first to cheer and inform everyone on the Bulgarian's heroic entrance. Dumbledore then explained the rules of the TriWizard Tournament, and it calmed Hermione's nerves when the headmaster explained that no one under 17 were to compete, which meant Harry was safe. Dinner was served shortly after and knowing everything seemed at least under some sort of control, Hermione allowed herself to relax and enjoy dinner like the rest of the Gryffindor table.

But at the Ravenclaw table things were very different, other than the different seating arrangement to accommodate the guests. A certain French Witch hasn't quite touched the food on her plate. For Fleur had busied herself trying to grab the attention of Hermione, whom seemed to ignore her after their thirty second of what it felt like to Fleur, a 'soul exchange'. Eyes are the windows to the soul, or so it has been said, and that thirty seconds felt like it could've told Fleur everything she needed to know about the girl, except there was no way to interpret or translate into these feelings into words.

"What's wrong Fleur?" Gabrielle chirped up in between sips of her soup.

"Nothing, eat your dinner."

"Er, more like you should eat YOUR dinner,"

"Gabrielle!" Fleur raised her voice.

"Fleur!" Gabrielle shouted back, and then examined her older sister. She seemed to be troubled about something. And the last thing she needed to hear was her little sister telling her what to do, but she knows Gabrielle will ask anyways. "I can tell something's on your mind, you can tell me," she added, but Fleur did not relax. "Unless it's really secretive! But you know how I like secrets!"

Fleur smiled at her little sister. Gabrielle always had a way to get on her nerves but cheer her up at the same time, even though they were almost ten years apart.

"Oh like that other time when you mistaken this plant for…"Gabrielle continued, which almost caused Fleur to plant her face permanently on the table. And did she mention Gabrielle had a knack for unconsciously embarrassing her sister by bringing up the most inappropriate topic in the most inappropriate time.

"THANK YOU GABRIELLE I'm quite RELAXED now!" Fleur squealed quickly in attempts to shut her sister up. The Beauxbatons representatives at the Ravenclaw table did not need to hear about her embarrassing poison ivy incident in Beauxbatons.

"ANYTIME!" Gabrielle replied with a big grin.

Fleur took in a deep breath looked over to Madam Maxim, who nodded at her.

I am Fleur Delacour; I can have anything I want.

With that thought she got up from the Ravenclaw table and walked toward the unsuspecting target.