A/N: And here we are starting with the last part in ch 1!

Chapter 8

"Why do you have a picture of me? And why is it pinned to your chest?"

Fleur smiled. "Oh, well I knew you hadn't gotten a chance to give me your favor for today, and since I requested this photo of you from the boy who is always carrying the camera, I transfigured it…"

As Fleur explained how she transfigured the photograph into a badge, the idea of which she'd gotten from the others people were wearing, Hermione's thoughts tried to make sense of it. It wasn't a bad picture of her. She should be flattered. She was flattered. This was a sign, right? This had to mean Fleur liked her.

And just as her confusion began to coalesce into fuzzy feelings of adoration for her crush, it chose to take a sharp turn and focus instead on Fleur's words.

"Hang on. What do you mean 'my favor'?"

"To show everyone that I am your champion, of course," Fleur chuckled, trying to pull Hermione into another hug.

Not wanting to be distracted by those strong arms, and Merlin she smelled good, Hermione took a step back and squeaked, "What?"

Fleur only smiled. "Ah, perhaps I forgot to say. It is customary for a Veela who is courting to carry their beloved's favor before going into battle."

Hermione heard the words. Technically, she knew their definitions. She wasn't an idiot. But her neurons were firing without actually connecting.

Courting? What?

Apparently she'd muttered those words out loud because Fleur stepped closer.

"To show that you're my girlfriend and I'm yours, silly," Fleur said fondly, tracing her finger along the edge of the badge and straightening it on her jacket.

Ah. There it was. The lightbulb moment. Her neurons were finally communicating. Knowledge was flowing.

Unfortunately, her emotions needed a minute to catch up.

"What!?"

The blood rushed through Hermione's ears. Girlfriend?! When? How?

Fleur tilted her head, her brow slightly creased, and she must have interpreted Hermione's stunned expression as concern because she pulled the brunette into another hug and whispered, "Please don't worry. I have a plan. And all of our clothes have a flame-resistant charm placed on them."

Right. The tournament. As if that was the thing that had Hermione's thoughts racing as she tried to digest that she was suddenly, and unbelievably, Fleur Delacour's girlfriend. Being surrounded by those arms wasn't helping either. Her warmth made the brunette's insides feel gooey, and her scent was incredibly intoxicating… a grassy earthiness and something floral… there had been whiffs of it before but never this strong. Oh right. They hadn't hugged before until today. It looked like she'd been wrong about Fleur having an aversion to physical contact.

Too bad that wasn't the only thing she was wrong about.

Her face was squished to Fleur's shoulder and the bottom of her chin brushed against the badge with her picture on it.

"Girlfriend," she muttered, and arms tightened around her.

"That's right, chérie. Do you have your hat with you?"

Hermione pulled back, their arms dropping to wrap around each other's waists.

"Yeah, it's in my coat pocket. Why?"

"Wear it for me?"

She nodded dumbly, taking in Fleur's smile and soft gaze, feeling her pulse quicken even more at the sight. Her hands started to get clammy but she liked how they linked together around the blonde's middle and didn't really want to let go.

Together. They were together. It was everything she wanted. Well, not everything. She also wanted Outstandings on her OWLs next year. And for Harry to stay alive. But getting back to the point at hand, yes being with Fleur was a dream come true.

Hermione would just feel a hell of a lot better if she knew how it all came about.

Neither one of them got a chance to say more because Ludo Bagman burst into the tent.

The witches' arms immediately dropped to their sides and the questioning stare from Bagman reminded Hermione she wasn't supposed to be here. She gave a weak smile to Fleur and Harry, mumbled 'good luck', then exited the tent.

Outside, Hermione pulled her hat out and looked at it. She'd gotten a little overheated after rushing to the tents, so she'd shoved it in her pocket just before going inside. But Fleur wanted her to wear it, so she put it on in such a way that the flower was over her left temple, and started walking by the other tent. She'd seen Madam Pomfrey fussing about inside when she passed it before, but it didn't register until now that it was the first aid tent.

A first aid tent meant injuries.

Fear for her friends' safety clashed with her ongoing confusion over the situation with Fleur, causing her mind to go round in circles as she made her way to the grandstands.

"Fleur will be fine," an accented voice said.

Hermione looked up, noticing a black-haired boy walking alongside her. It was Philippe, Fleur's cousin. The one that had been avoiding her since her friendship with the blonde began. The one who had stopped Fleur from jumping up at the sight of her when they were out on the grounds before the Halloween feast.

Abruptly stopping, she said, "I thought you didn't like me. Or that you were too embarrassed by your cousin's actions to be around me."

Not the politest opening, but the way he acted when they passed in the halls, rolling his eyes at Fleur's happy greetings to her, made her suspicious.

"I am never embarrassed by my cousin's nature," replied Philippe affably. "But Fleur tends to get swept away by her instincts and I was worried that she singled you out far too quickly to know if you were actually worthy."

Hermione narrowed her eyes. She could see a bit of a family resemblance. Similar eye color. The same nose. But it wasn't enough to let her guard down.

"I would think a protective family member would be around more to make sure I wasn't taking advantage."

Philippe smiled. "Well, you two are official now, et voilà."

"We're–?" Not liking how his expression changed to one of scrutiny, Hermione quickly corrected herself. "I mean yes, we're official."

"Mm, oui…" he said, frowning a little before shrugging and gesturing that they keep walking. "Anyways, a single wizard hanging around wouldn't have been appreciated by my dear cousin during the first part. Which I can understand. I am extremely irresistible."

"A cheeky git is what you are," Hermione countered. She might not have known exactly what he meant about 'the first part' but she had a good idea, and she knew a test when she saw one. Showing any weakness would be an automatic failure.

The older boy laughed.

"You are exactly as she described."

"She talks about me?" asked Hermione, all at once not bothered by Philippe's company and wanting to hear more.

"Endlessly," drawled Philippe, exaggerating an eye roll. "You've let her be herself, even though I suspect you don't always fully understand, non?"

Hermione blushed despite her best efforts not to let him get under her skin.

"I like her," she said quietly.

His blue eyes gleamed with delight.

"Ah, here we are," he said, pointing to the steps that led up to the main walkway of the grandstands. "Fleur instructed me to alleviate her girlfriend's concerns by finding you before the task but I'm sure she got a chance to do so herself when you saw her in the tent, so this is where I leave you."

After a jaunty bow, he straightened and jogged up the steps.

She waited a minute and then walked up, too, looking around for Ron, still unbalanced by the afternoon's revelations and now by the encounter with Philippe. Spotting him and many other Gryffindors in the next section, she slowly made her way towards them.

Girlfriend.

Okay, she had to think about this logically. Clearly, she'd misunderstood Fleur's courting efforts. The gifts were likely part of it. Her hand went to her pants pocket to touch the foil ball and other items.

Tokens of friendship, ugh. Ginny was never going to let her live that one down.

How could she have been so blind? Even more importantly, how could it have progressed to a relationship without her knowledge?

Hermione knew that courtship rituals varied across cultures and that it was impossible to know them all. But to unknowingly participate in one? She was much too smart for that. Wasn't she?

Apparently not.

"Everything all right?" Ron asked when she dropped onto the space on the bench next to him.

"Perfect," she grumbled. "Thanks for saving me a seat."

She took a moment to observe the enclosure. It was oval-shaped with the grandstands positioned all along one side. The large gate on the left end suggested the dragons would be entering through there. Moving her eyes to the right, on the other side of the enclosure outside the fencing, Hermione saw the tops of the two tents. A smaller gate from which the champions would probably enter was located nearby. If the dragons were meant to start the task on the left end near the large gate, the champions would likely be on the right. The shimmering, transparent barrier which went around the whole enclosure and as high as fifty meters provided little comfort. The officials obviously anticipated dragon fire and fire-resistant charms on the champions' clothes didn't exactly mean flame-proof.

Houses were mixed throughout the sections, though there were still visible pockets of house pride. The Beauxbatons and Durmstrang students also sat amongst themselves to root for their respective champions. The judges were on raised seats draped in gold at the bottom of a section closer to the left. Hermione couldn't see their faces, but she was still glad Ron had picked seats closer to the right end. She would much rather be near Fleur and Harry at the start of their tasks than to the dragons.

"Did you see Harry?"

Hermione turned to Ron. His face was tight with concern. Maybe some guilt, too.

"Yeah," she answered. "He looked a bit green."

"I ran into Charlie while coming up here. Bloody dragons. Nesting ones at that."

"Harry will be fine. We worked out a plan," Hermione assured with as much confidence as she could muster, trying not to dwell on how vicious and protective nesting dragons would be.

Ron nodded, trusting that she'd done everything she possibly could. And she had, hadn't she? There wasn't anything else they could think of. Summoning the broom was Harry's best bet.

"And your champion?"

Hermione almost protested the possessive adjective, but then she sighed. Who was she kidding?

"Fleur looked shaky but happy to see me."

His smile stretched from ear to ear. Before he could pester her for details, shouts drew their attention to the large gate. The dragon keepers were bringing out the first dragon.

As anticipated, they positioned her at the left end of the enclosure and magically removed the chains connected to the leather straps on her legs and neck. Then the keepers left through the gate, closing it behind them.

"That's a Swedish Short-Snout," explained Ron. "I see they brought in her clutch. She won't fly away without them."

All thoughts about courting were pushed to the back of Hermione's mind as she focused on what was to come.

Given that the enclosure itself was on the edge of the Forbidden Forest, the terrain was fairly even, made up of patches of grass and rocky dirt with a few outcroppings of low boulders. Nothing that could provide any real cover. The dragon wasn't even chained down to anything, although she supposed Ron was right that a nesting mother wouldn't leave her clutch.

A whistle sounded, signaling the start of the task, and a few moments later Cedric Diggory entered the enclosure. Bagman's voice rang out to explain the challenge. The champions had to get the golden egg that laid amongst the dragon's real eggs. After doing so, the five judges, counting himself, Bartemius Crouch, and the three schools' headmasters, would award points out of ten.

Part of her wished Fleur had been first. Or even Harry. Because watching Cedric struggle to get by his dragon only heightened her fear. A transfigured dog was a clever idea, and she was proud Harry had made sure Cedric knew about the dragons ahead of time just as the other champions did, but the older boy's injuries on the way to getting his egg were still too gruesome. And the way Bagman's commentary seemed to relish every second of danger the Hufflepuff was in made her question whether he and the other organizers of this barbaric tradition cared for the safety of the champions at all.

By the time the area had been cleared and the next dragon brought out, the Common Welsh Green according to Ron, Hermione thought she was going to be sick.

A few minutes later the whistle sounded and shortly after, Fleur entered the enclosure.

For the first time, Hermione noticed how good the French champion looked. Her ponytail, the shiny jacket and baggy pants flapping a little in the wind, the leather fingerless gloves.

Gone was the queasy girl she'd spied when she first entered the tent. This Fleur looked serious and determined.

And also heart-stoppingly, mind-numbingly hot.

"Is she wearing a Diggory badge?" asked Ron under his breath.

"No," whispered Hermione quickly, noticing people in the stands turning and pointing at her. "It's, erm, it's a picture of me."

She didn't look at him but she could easily see the smirk on his face.

"Shut up," Hermione muttered.

Fortunately, there were no other teases, not even from Ginny or the twins who were sitting a few rows back. There was a dangerous dragon down below, after all.

With her clutch nestled beneath her, the Welsh Green watched Fleur. Even though she was the smallest of the four dragons, Hermione had no doubt she would be just as ferocious in protecting her eggs as the others.

But Fleur had a plan, Hermione reminded herself. The intelligent, capable witch she knew had used the tip-off about the dragons just as she and Harry had.

The blonde walked to the right end of the enclosure, bowed to the judges, then bowed to the dragon. Eyeing her warily, the dragon seemed to acknowledge the champion by snorting lightly and rising up on her hindlegs before landing with a dull thud on her forelegs.

Hermione initially predicted that Fleur would follow Cedric's strategy and create a decoy, but her heart leapt into her throat when the blonde instead took several slow steps towards the dragon before bringing out her wings and hopping up and down, her wand at the ready in her left hand. It also sounded like Fleur was making those same tsk'ing sounds from last week.

"An interesting start from the Beauxbatons champion," Bagman's condescending voice commented. "But let's see what the witch can do, hm?"

His insulting dismissal, as well as the surrounding murmurs about her wings, had Hermione clenching her jaw. It still wasn't widely known by the student body that she was Veela despite everyone having seen her wings during the Beauxbatons entrance back in October, but some had guessed it. A sixth-year Gryffindor in the row in front of her wondered out loud if Fleur would transform the way the Veela at the Quidditch World Cup had, and she had to bite her tongue not to respond.

She knew Fleur couldn't. Being quarter Veela, she would never be able to shift her face or grow talons, but her wings would get bigger at the start of her twentieth year, so after she turned nineteen. Fleur also held out hope that conjuring fireballs in her hands would be another ability she would grow into. For now, she just had her adolescent wings.

"You can do it, Fleur!" Hermione yelled. More cheers followed from the Beauxbatons delegation and other supporters scattered throughout the stands. Fleur didn't turn to her, but the bookworm could've sworn she saw the girl's chest puff out a little.

The blonde's left hand rose, her wand circling wide then flicking sharply downwards, causing those few boulder outcroppings in the enclosure to rise up out of the ground. It was a good thing, too, because the dragon took that moment to blow fire in Fleur's direction and the girl crouched behind the nearest boulder.

Fleur did more than hide, however. She cast a shield in front of the boulder so that the dragon fire diverted towards the crowd, hitting the barrier with a loud ringing sound. Alarmed screams filled the air, which changed to cheers when they realized they were safe. Surprise and relief briefly flashed on the French witch's face as she stood up before she composed herself into fierce determination once more.

"Remarkable! Miss Delacour's shield charm is as strong as the protective barrier. That requires great skill indeed," called out Bagman, and to Hermione's ear, he meant it.

Tsk's now alternated with sharp whistling sounds as Fleur leapt from one boulder to the next with the grace of a ballerina, her wings flapping behind her, making the leaps farther than what a human could do on their own. From what the blonde had told her, her wings weren't big enough yet to allow her to fly but they were still useful in helping to propel her body.

While provoked, the dragon still refused to leave her clutch, settling for blowing fire towards Fleur whenever she appeared between the boulders.

The excitement rose every time her shields redirected the dragon fire, the crowd shouting encouragements and applauding after each blast. The judges had to be impressed, too. Anyone who couldn't see Fleur's bravery and skill as she challenged the dragon to attack her was an idiot, in Hermione's opinion.

When she leapt to the boulder closest to the dragon, the Welsh Green was finally irritated enough to move towards her, leaving behind the eggs. Instead of making a dash for the golden egg the way Cedric had, Fleur stepped out to stand directly in front of the dragon, pointed her wand at the snapping maw, and cast a spell.

The Welsh Green instantly looked almost hypnotized and then let out a yawn. Blinking its eyes lazily, the dragon promptly laid down.

"She put her to sleep," marveled Hermione.

"My goodness, well done, Miss Delacour! Well done! A sleeping charm on a beast of that size is no small feat," exclaimed Bagman excitedly.

Everyone stood and cheered. Hermione was ecstatic, pride swelling in her chest at how the blonde had accomplished her task so decisively. The crowd roared again when Fleur went to the clutch and lifted the golden egg above her head, and Hermione couldn't help herself when she yelled, "Wooo, way to go, that's my girlfriend!"

"Oi, you didn't tell me that!" exclaimed Ron next to her. "Ginny, did you hear?"

"The whole section heard, I think," laughed Ginny from behind. Hermione ignored her, knowing the younger Weasley would grill her about it later.

Fleur must have heard Hermione, too, because she winked in her direction. Her heart skipped a beat in response, watching as the champion began to walk away from the clutch, but then the dragon snored just as she passed. A small jet of fire hit the witch's legs and her pants caught fire. Before Hermione even had a chance to scream, however, Fleur swiftly cast an aguamenti to douse the flames.

Triumphantly lifting the egg over her head again, she added a cocky shrug to indicate the fire hadn't hurt her.

The crowd ate it up, as did Hermione, who clapped and smiled until her hands and cheeks hurt. Fleur bowed once more and then left the enclosure to allow the dragon keepers to wrangle the Welsh Green.

Hermione sank back onto the bench, the adrenaline fading away, replaced by relief and exhaustion. A couple of minutes passed before Fleur came back into the enclosure to hear the judges award the points. Her total score was higher than Cedric's, which made sense considering she'd gotten the egg in less time, and had done so without getting hurt.

"There you go, 'Mione. Your bird did all right. Much better than Cedric, I'm sad to say. I wonder how Harry will handle his. Do you think he's next?"

She quietly listened to Ron's ramble over his favorite moves from the champions so far, but there was something about his using that word again in reference to Fleur.

It was stuck on repeat in her head as her hand went to her pocket of gifts, taking out her favorite. She stared down at the little foil ball in the palm of hand. Smooth and shiny and the size of a marble, but light as a feather.

What was it Fleur had said when she held it out? The part Hermione had interrupted… the ways of her people… the start of her suit!

Buttons, strings, pebbles. Fleur's mannerisms. The hops. The head movements. The rapid-fire tsk'ing sounds.

Hermione breathed out one word just as the noise of the crowd rose again with the arrival of the third dragon, all of it finally clicking.

"Birds."

A/N: Hermione knows! Finally lol

As you can tell, I used the movie's costume design for Fleur as my reference because she looked amazing!

Thanks for reading!