—Fleur de Saison—

Author: They meet again, finally! This chapter is Fleur's POV. The next one will be Hermione's, and it will have substantially more enlightening monologue when it comes to their lack of communication and a few paragraphs about what had happened during the few weeks that had already passed. I hope you enjoyed this though, oh and theirs a bit of Gabrielle POV too. xD Oh, for this chapter Don't Stop by Innerpartysystem was blaring in my ears. I love that song.

Hermione/Fleur. Sum — Life was hectic. Voldemort was lurking around the proverbial corner and the Triwizard Tournament was making everyone crazy. Hermione just wanted to get through the year alive; not fall in love with the beautiful Fleur Delacour, who she had thought she would never see again.

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#—When I Fell In Love: Chapter 4

Fleur smiled weakly at Angelica, a Veela like herself—though, the other girl was more human. Angelica and she had bonded years ago, when they both reached the peak of puberty; when their heritage had made itself known, along with their thrall. Alienated by the girls that had previously been their friends, and idolised by the boys, they found the occasional solace in each others presence—enjoying the fact they had another female their age that didn't glare at them with thrall induced jealousy.

"Alors, allez-vous entrer?" Angelica asked, fiddling with a curl of her dark brown hair, flickering a questioning glance at Fleur. (So, are you going to enter?)

Fleur leaned back against the grass, her elbows supporting her as she did so. She sighed, playing dumb. "Entrez quoi?" (Enter what?)

Angelic ruffled her dark hair in irritation, giving Fleur an annoyed scowl. "Le Tournoi des Trois Sorciers, quoi d'autre? Vous ne pouvez pas me tromper avec votre façade individuelle, Fleur. Je vous ai connu beaucoup trop long." (The Triwizard Tournament, what else? You can't fool me with your detached façade, Fleur. I've known you much too long.)

Fleur matched Angelica's scowl with a thunderous, brooding one of her own. Azure-eyes were narrow with bitterness, her lips curled into a sneer as she spoke. "Pourquoi avez-vous même la peine de demander? Je suis étudiant le plus prisé Madame Maxime. Bien sûr, je vais à ce concours stupide." (Why did you even bother asking? I am Madame Maxime's most prized student. Of course I am going to that stupid competition.)

She softened her expression when she caught the hurt that flashed in Angelica's eyes at the harsh answer. The girl had always been fragile. "Désolé pour claquer. J'ai été de mauvaise humeur depuis l'école a commencé. . . Moi, je trouve mon cœur." (Sorry for snapping. I've been in a bad mood since school started. . . I–I found my heart.)

Angelica looked equal parts excited and confused. "Ne devriez-vous être dans une meilleure humeur, alors? Qui sont-ils? Quel est leur nom?" (Shouldn't you be in a better mood then? Who are they? What is their name?)

Fleur closed her eyes, fighting back frustrated and homesick tears. "Je suis de mauvaise humeur parce qu'ils vivent si loin. Angleterre, en fait. Hermione, c'est son nom. . . J'ai parsemé de cours de l'été. En outre, elle est un Moldu. . . et non pas au courant de ma vraie nature, magiques ou Vélane." (I am in a bad mood because they live so far away. England, in fact. Hermione, is her name. . . I met her over the summer. Also, she is a muggle. . . and not aware of my true nature, magical or Veela.)

Sympathy shone through Agelica's light green eyes. "Ah, je vois. . . Je suis désolé il n'y a rien que je puisse faire. Pourquoi n'avez-vous pas dit? T-elle répondre à votre sentiment?" (Ah, I see. . . I am sorry there is nothing I can do. Why haven't you told her? Does she reciprocate your feelings?)

Fleur sat forward, crossing her legs. Azure eyes lit with fire. "C'est ce qui est très frustrant! Je ne peux pas le dire! Elle envoie tous ces signaux mixtes. Si seulement je pouvais lire dans ses émotions comme tout le monde. . . il rendrait les choses tellement plus facile." (That's what's so frustrating! I can't tell! She sends all these mixed signals. If only I could read her emotions like everyone else's. . . it would make things so much easier.)

"Mais c'est le point, n'est-ce pas? Elle ne serait pas ton coeur si elle était comme tout le monde. Elle n'est pas influencée par l'un de vos sang Vélane. Je me souviens de ta grand-mère nous raconte l'histoire. A propos de la façon dont il ya des siècles la première Vélane tombé en amour avec un homme, qui ne l'aimait pour sa beauté. Elle était si furieuse quand elle a découvert que son amour était fausse, qu'elle jura de ne jamais pour quelqu'un d'autre à se sentir le déchirement qu'elle avait vécu. Ainsi, elle enchante notre sang pour que notre unique destinée ne relève pas de notre esclave." (But that's the point, isn't it? She wouldn't be your heart if she was like everyone else. She isn't influenced by any of your Veela blood. I remember your grandmother telling us the story. About how centuries ago the first Veela fell in love with a man, who only loved her for her beauty. She was so furious when she found out that his love was false, that she swore never for anyone else to feel the heartbreak she had experienced. So she enchanted our blood so that our destined one didn't fall under our thrall.)

Fleur looked down at her lap, speaking lowly. "Je sais, mais cela ne change pas le fait qu'elle pourrait ne pas ressentir la même chose pour moi. Vous avez oublié de mentionner l'endroit où, si nous ne sommes pas complètement lien avec notre destinée d'un an après la réunion, on meurt d'un cœur brisé. Je ne pourrais jamais la revoir, Angelica. C'est faire tourner mes entrailles. Tout le monde dit toujours l'amour est un sentiment magnifique, mais jusqu'ici, tout ce que j'ai ressenti est malade et faible. Comme je suis hors de contrôle." (I know that, but it doesn't change the fact that she might not feel the same for me. You forgot to mention the part where if we don't completely bond with our destined a year after meeting, we die of a broken heart. I might never see her again, Angelica. It's making my insides twist. Everyone always says love is a beautiful feeling, but so far all I've felt is sick and weak. Like I'm spinning out of control.)

Angelic got to her feet, and stared at Fleur's dejected face with a level gaze. "Avec l'amour vient la douleur, Fleur. Pouvez-vous honnêtement dire que vous pensez que vous n'auriez jamais sentir de cette façon pour quelqu'un d'autre? Comment vous sentez-vous en sa présence? Est-ce votre cœur pour essayer de battre c'est de sortir de votre poitrine? Votre Tingle peau? Fleur, jamais tout le temps que je te connais, je n'ai jamais vu quelqu'un vous laissez effet vous si profondément. Ne pas le jeter à cause de l'insécurité petits. Il pourrait ruiner votre vie, littéralement." (With love comes pain, Fleur. Can you honestly say you think you would ever feel this way for anyone else? How do you feel in her presence? Does your heart try to beat it's way out of your chest? Does your skin tingle? Fleur, never in all the time I've known you, have I ever seen you let someone effect you so deeply. Don't throw it away because of petty insecurities. It could ruin your life, literally.)

Fleur chuckled throatily, the lost look on her features disappearing. "Quand avez-vous devenu si sage dans les chemins de l'amour, Angélique?" (When did you become so wise in the ways of love, Angelica?)

The dark-haired girl smiled more genuinely than Fleur had ever seen before. "Quand je suis tombé en amour." (When I fell in love.)

Smiling, with tear-glazed eyes; Fleur watched Angelica walk away, a spring in the other girls step that she previously hadn't noticed. Suddenly, everything became clear. Fleur would find Hermione again, no matter what, and she would make the other girl fall in love with her. Resolved, she got to her feet and wandered back to Beauxbaton palace. She needed to pack for the upcoming trip to Hogwarts—they were leaving in three days.

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Gabrielle Delacour was bored. Sitting still for an hour wasn't her idea of fun, and her sister was watching her like a hawk. Sharp, unflinching azure-eyes fixed on her as she fidgeted and shifted in her seat; trying her best to resist the urge to just let loose and cause her favourite thing.

Mayhem. . . Ah, how I miss you my chaotic little friend.

Slyly, eyes a shade darker than her sisters, rolled to the side; fixing on Fleur—who for a split second began gazing out the window of Beauxbaton's massive powder-blue carriage, drawn by twelve giant winged Abraxan horses. Smirking michieviously to herself, Gabrielle took her only chance to escape, launching out of her seat and sprinting to the door of their shared bedroom.

High-pitched giggles bubbled from her throat as she pushed passed affronted students, all dressed in the same powder-blue coloured uniforms as the carriage. Faint yelling could be heard from the direction behind her, Fleur's voice being a prominent voice in the mix. Suddenly, the carriage began to tip and swerve; leaving Gabrielle to lean against one of the walls for support, so she didn't crash to the ground from the abrupt unbalance.

"Tu reviens ici en ce moment, Gabrielle! Ou je ferai en sorte d'avoir quelqu'un à vous faire suivre chaque minute de chaque jour pour le reste de l'année!" The youngest Delacour heard her sisters voice resound angrily from further down the hall. (You come back here right now, Gabrielle! Or I'll make sure to have someone monitoring you every minute of every day for the rest of the year!)

Determined not to be caught, Gabrielle pushed off from the wall with wobbly legs and began jogging down the hall, occassionally steadying herself when the carrige took a particularly sharp turn or dive. Chancing a glance over her shoulder as she ran, Gabrielle didn't see the tall, imposing woman who was directly in her path until in was too late; dazed, confused and sprawled on the corridor's floor, she gazed fearfully up at the last person she wanted to run into.

"Madame Maxime, heh. . . 'ow lovely to see you on zis fine evening." she laughed nervously, cursing every God and Goddess she could think of. How could they abandon her like this? Madame Maxime was known for her strict, exacting ways. Gabrielle herself had only met the giant woman once, but that one time had been enough to scare the living daylights out of her.

"Gabrielle Delacour, eezn't eet?" Large, dark eyes fixed on her from down a large, boney looking nose. Gabrielle shuddered slightly under the intense, disapproving look she was being given and tried to think of a way to get out of her current predicament. A glint of sunlight coming through a nearby window caused a plan to spark in her mind.

"Oui, that 'ez I." she slowly got to her feet, acting the bashful nine year old she was supposed to be. Exaggerating her movements, she gasped and flickered her eyes over to the window. With prime acting skills, she easily fooled the tall Headmistress. "Sacrebleu, what is that!"

"Hmm? What is it?" as Madame Maxime turned to see what Gabrielle was gesturing to, the latter took the oppurtunity to dart away, only to find herself grabbed from behind by her older sister.

"I do not think 'zo, Gabrielle Delacour."

An hour later, Fleur was sitting beside a distgruntled and sulky Garbrielle; who was stabbing at the greasy, English food in an act of childish petulance. Rolling her eyes, Fleur glanced around the Great Hall. Many banners for different houses were strewn about. Robes with trims of either blue, red, green or yellow where split into four seperate groups. The table the Beauxbaton student's were currently occuping where called Ravenclaw, or something like that; they where the blue and bronze house.

From what Fleur had gathered, the red and gold house were Gryffindor, the green and silver were Slytherin, and the yellow and black where Hufflepuff; and each house was based on some sort of animal, be it a bird, a snake, a Griffin, or a badger. Fleur found this odd, really. How did animals have anything to do with school 'houses'?

A loud shout coming from Gabrielle startled her out of her nonsequencial musings. Azure-eyes widened in shock and bewilderment as she saw her sister climbing on to the table, fully intending to vault over everyone and their food to get to her goal. However, what had frozen Fleur in place was the name that came from her baby sisters lips.

"It's 'Ermione, Fleur!"

Jumping from her seat, Fleur ignored the various eyes on her as she ran after Gabrielle who was quickly running towards the table on the opposite side of the room. Boy's turned red as she jogged past, and girls glowered; but Fleur payed them no heed—as they all faded away into a blur of shape and colour as she met dark, hazel-eyes; eyes she would recognize anywhere—eyes that made her heart stutter and pound with a single glance.

Fleur froze in place as their eyes fixed on each other. Gabrielle was clinging to Hermione's waist, and speaking rapidly and barely understandable French—while the latter gazed disbelievingly at Fleur, not speaking—looking completely and utterly speechless; exactly how the jonquil-haired witch felt.

Managing to gather a thred of composure, Fleur stepped forward numbly; soft almost inaudible words spilling from her mouth. "Mon coeur?—is—is 'zhat really you? Your a witch too?"

The redheaded boy sitting at the table behind where Hermione was standing turned a dangerous shade of punce at the sound of Fleur's lilting voice, while the bespectacled, emerald-eyed one gazed between Hermione and the unknown girl; a quizical look on his face. A female redhead, who had a resemblance to the purple boy, glarred daggers at the newcomers.

"F-Fleur—?" suddenly, Fleur was pulled into a feirce, almost painfully tight embrace as nearly intelligible words rushed from Hermione's mouth. "I can't believe this. This is a dream isn't it? Your not actually at Hogwarts, are you? Merlin, what are the chances that the person I meet in France turns out to be magical as well? This is amazing!—and your going to be here for the rest of the year too—!"

A small foot crushing her own alerted Fleur to the fact Gabrielle was still there. "Fleur, I want to talk to 'Ermione! I saw her first!"

"Gabrielle!" the scolding came not from Fleur's mouth, but from Hermione's instead. "Stop being so horrible to your sister. Your acting like a spoilt little child. I thought better of you, or was my impression mistaken back in France?"

Gabrielle looked suffieciently ashamed. "But—"

Hermione cut the nine-year-old off with a pointedly raised eyebrow, and Fleur couldn't help but let her features soften at the display. Hermione hadn't changed at all—it was relieving. Now the shock of Hermione's magical status had begun to wear off, the jonquil-haired Veela became uncomfortably aware of all the eyes now resting on the three of them and the odd scene they were making in the middle of the Hall.

"Should we take this somewhere more private, oui?" Fleur asked, regretfully detangling herself from Hermione's warm, slender arms and grabbing her hand instead. "All the voyer's are beggining to bozer' me."

It seemed to mute shock that had befalled the hall of students had started wearing off as well, and loud whispers broke out. Fleur distinctively heard Hermione's name repeatedly from various mouths as people watched the three of them walk past. She was sure that tomorrow there would be many outlandish rumours floating about.

However, with Hermione's small, tanned hand firmly grasped in her own ivory one; Fleur couldn't help but feel utterly content—no matter what was to come.

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Note: Does anyone else think Gabrielle is completely adorable? Well I do, anyway. I love portraying her as this mischivious little trouble maker, haha—I don't know why, though. Please review, yes?

Oh, and I know sacrebleu isn't really used any more; but honestly, I couldn't resist xD.