Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, or Hermione Granger, or Fleur Delacour... Although I frankly wish I had all three.

Author's Note: Returning from a long hiatus on this story, I am excited to have more solid plans for the next three chapters, and an ending planned! (Although unlike JK Rowling, if my story takes me in a slightly different direction, the specifics of that ending may change. Nothing is set in stone.)

As usual, this story contains Fleur/Hermione. Not your cup of tea, then why are you reading? Also, a touch of Ron/Lavender, but I promise it won't take center stage. EVER. Now then. On with the story. Let me know what you think!

Chapter 8

"I know this young man, and 'e is 'onest, I can assure you. Mr. Potter desires no excess of trouble, or fame, as some try to claim." Fleur looked around the room. "We remember what 'appened to Mr. Potter when 'e was but a babe. And even more surely do you know what kind of evils some wizards wish upon him because of zat. For the last three years, there 'ave been constant plots to put 'arry in harm - no, in death's way. I 'ave no doubt zat this is yet another scheme to endanger Mr. Potter. Someone with foul intentions put his name in zat goblet."

Harry looked over at Fleur with shock and gratitude.

"I believe you, then," Madame Maxime said finally, looking at Harry with something akin to empathy. "But now, Dumblydore, what do we do about it?"

While the others talked and argued, Fleur reached over and squeezed Harry's hand.

"Do not worry, 'arry. I will make sure you survive this tournament."

Later that night, Fleur sat in Hermione's bed, watching her girlfriend pace and fret. And when Hermione stopped talking to breath for a moment, Fleur told Hermione of her promise to Harry. And just like that, the worry flew right out of Hermione's heart.

The days of October seemed to flow together like sweet honey, each day more perfect than the last. Hermione had Fleur in her bed every night and every morning, and she was starting to realize that was really all she needed to get through each day. And possibly all she needed in life. It was a bit frightening - she was only fifteen, and she hadn't planned to fall in love until she was thirty at least - but she knew now that there was no planning love.

It had all happened so quickly. She had fallen hard and fast and goodness she had only known Fleur for six months and they were already living together. And now every hour was filled with happiness. It didn't matter where she was, what she was doing - if Fleur was there, it was all a hundred times more brilliant than it ever was before. They could just be studying, and the smile on Hermione's face wouldn't shrink, even if she missed a question.

She was with the woman she loved. All was well. Until the Tasks began, of course.

"Miss Skeeter, a quick word." Fleur had the woman firmly by the arm, tighter even that Miss Skeeter was gripping Harry. Fleur tightened her fist until Miss Skeeter released Harry with a little hiss. "I have quite the story for you."

"Oh you do?" Rita Skeeter's eyes lit up as she reached for her pen.

"Harry Potter is in this tournament as a result of yet another Death Eater scheme to put him in harm's way. And yet, the Ministry has still not found the culprit. It is highly inappropriate to expect a fourth year - talented though he is - to compete in the Triwizard Tournament. I would recommend, Miss Skeeter, that you pay a visit to the Ministry, find out what you can about why they seem to be taking so long."

Rita smiled slightly.

"Putting innocent young schoolchildren at risk is one kind of story… But I hear you might be able to tell me something a little… shall we say, juicier."

"Miss Skeeter?" Fleur raised an eyebrow. "Be careful about what you say about 'arry or me - or anyone else I 'appen to care about. You would not survive the consequences. Do you know what veela do to their victims when they are angry? Oh my dear Miss Skeeter, you do not want to know. Ever."

Hermione's heart seemed to stand still as Fleur flew around the dragon, trying to evade its claws and teeth - and its fiery breath.

Fleur was reaching for the egg, stopping her zigzagging motions for just a moment - but that one moment mattered. The dragon roared, and engulfed Fleur in flames.

"Fleur! No!" Hermione shrieked, running down the stands, wand in hand.

But Fleur was rolling in the air, the egg in her arms, protecting it as she tumbled to the ground. As the dragon keepers hurried out to subdue the dragon, Fleur got up and hurried towards the medical tent, casting dousing spells on herself as she went.

Hermione ran in just as Fleur got out the last of the flames.

"Fleur!"

"I'm all right!" Fleur assured her.

"I thought the flame resistance spells had failed," Hermione moaned.

"Well, they did on my clothes - but not on my skin," Fleur said with a shrug. "And what is more important - mmmmmph!"

Hermione kissed her furiously.

A flash of bright light brought them out of their trance.

"An excellent shot!" Rita declared.

"If I am unsatisfied with the caption…" Fleur said, her glare causing Rita to shrink back quickly.

"Hail to the champion?" Rita questioned.

Hermione giggled.

"Fine," Fleur sniffed, and returned to kissing her girlfriend.

As she curled up between her girlfriend and her best friend on the couch, Hermione felt incredibly grateful. Fleur and Harry had both excelled at the First Task, tying for first place. True, they had used the same method - that they had both been practicing together. Hermione had helped them prepare appropriate protection spells.

While they all realized Harry had faced the more difficult dragon (how fair was that, Hermione wondered… then began to speculate that someone in the Ministry must be part of the scheme to hurt Harry), he had been the better flyer. His time to the egg was about ten seconds shorter than Fleur's.

While Fleur had had her clothes set on fire, Harry had received a shallow cut from the dragon's foreclaw on his right arm. Madam Pomfrey promised it would be all healed by morning.

"Drink this," Hermione told Harry, handing him a cocoa.

"No butterbeer?" Harry sighed.

"It's not what you need to heal," Hermione said strictly.

"Aww, Hermione," Ron chuckled, coming to sit on a chair across from them, two butterbeers in his hand. "Guess these are both for me, then."

Harry groaned, but after taking a sip of his cocoa, shot Hermione a smile.

"Harry…" Ron said quietly, leaning closer. "You will never guess what happened to me."

The redhead's ears were going pink as the boy just thought about whatever he was about to say.

"Then I shouldn't guess, should I?"

"Be that way," Ron grinned. He leaned closer, and whispered, incredibly loudly, "Lavender kissed me."

"She what?" Harry sputtered into his cocoa.

"Right after you won, and everyone was cheering, and she was sitting next to me and we were hugging… and she kissed me!" Ron puffed out his chest. "Looks like I got my first kiss before you did. Tough luck mate - you owe me three knuts."

Harry rolled his eyes and began to fish through his pockets, hoping to find the coins and get it out of the way.

"You bet on who would receive their first kiss first?" Fleur laughed.

"Back in third year," Harry nodded.

"Congratulations, Ron," Hermione smiled at her friend. She reached out and chinked their glasses together in a toast. "To Ron - for the greatest accomplishment of the day. And to Harry - here's hoping he manages to get his first kiss before the year is out."

"Hey," Harry protested, albeit weakly… He could definitely get behind that sentiment.

"Hear, hear, cause I've already won!" Ron grinned. "Oh hey, Lavender's waving at me!" He waved back.

"That's girlspeak for 'come over here'," Hermione told him.

"Oh," Ron said, glancing over at Lavender and smiling widely. "Oh! I just realized."

"Realized what?" Harry asked after a moment.

"Hermione can give me double advice on dating now."

"Why's that?"

"Cause she's a girl, so she knows what girls like, and she dates girls, so she knows what to say to girls!" Ron said happily.

He hurried off to see Lavender, chest all puffed out, before Hermione got a chance to properly giggle. She was very glad that Ron was in such good spirits. He'd never said anything bad to Harry, not after Hermione explained Fleur's theory of why Harry was entered into the tournament, but she knew that Ron was envious, and though he tried to hide it, he had been rather glum quite a bit of the time. Tonight, Ron had finally gotten something before Harry did, and though that was maybe a little petty, Hermione knew it was the first step on the path to making Ron feel better about his lot in life being different from Harry's.

Hermione smiled at Harry before leaning the other way and relaxing into Fleur. Strong, slender arms curled around her, and Fleur pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

"Ah, mon ange," Fleur whispered.

Other girls' boyfriends called them sweetie or darling, but Hermione loved Fleur's nickname for her. She'd never felt like much of an angel before, but Fleur made her feel beautiful and strong and good and what else should that word mean anyhow?

Hermione just knew she could be strong as long as she had Fleur with her.