when you think you know everything..
just take some time; back up...
stop and smell the roses
and appreciate the breeze...
ii. discoveries
It was just another familiar night in Hogwarts her first year. And there she sat in the chilly room that night, alone, right in front of the very object that could very well drive her mad. But this was the one time she was allowed not to care. She could let go of things like that now. The moonlight bouncing off the stone walls and floor gave her comfort, but nothing more so than the image before her reflecting in her determinedly stern eyes.
Three people – her mother, her father, and her baby sister. They smiled at her, Gabrielle herself managing the cutest smile to ever adorn her innocent tiny face. Fleur had difficulty remembering to breathe while she tried to ignore her constricted chest, focusing so hard on the sight in front of her. The Mirror of Erised was a wonderful thing… Perhaps, so wonderful, that she never wanted to leave. But she came back every night to have a chat with her family. Fleur wanted them to know of her successes.
"Maman, Papa, Gabrielle… I miss you all terribly," she admitted softly in French. Her eyes betrayed her, stinging slightly and glinting with a pained sadness that she knew all too well that she needed to hide at all times… "The Wizards who put me in that orphanage in London hid my identity and it took forever for Dumbledore to find me. I know you all had high hopes of me going to Beauxbatons, but Hogwarts will do… It's terribly cold here, and the food is not like what we had, but it's better than whatever they gave me in that orphanage for five years.
"The people here…they all seem overbearing and terrible. They fawn over me like you said they would, Papa. I never asked for the attention, but even the ones who do not want to give it to me so easily. Draco is doing well. He keeps insisting on teasing Harry Potter for some reason. I do not see why. Harry is like me, I think. But he gets shy and jittery from the attention he receives. I just don't care.
"I want to go back to France, back home…even the Malfoy Manor is better than this old castle. The weather is terrible and the classes are mediocre. But I have taken a liking to Charms and Herbology…
"My friends here are really my friends, though. I question Gregory and Vincent sometimes, but they're surprisingly building immunity to my thrall. Draco was never affected. Theodore is okay with it, as is Blaise. Pansy is alright, but I don't think my thrall works on girls anyway. Regardless, people are always staring…
"Today, some girl named Hermione got angry at me for Transfiguring a match into a needle on my first try before she could. She's one of the people who have their priorities mixed up. Self-gratification for her wits is probably what she lives off of. Stupid, isn't it? But who am I to judge her? I don't know her. I know that her hair is too bushy and her front teeth are too large. Her eyes are powerful but she is not. She gets angry every time I ignore her and every time I look at her indifferently. She's never satisfied with anything in her life…
"Must there always be someone in life who will just be there to put you down? That's who Hermione is to me. Everyone puts her down so she takes it out on me, I think. I try to pretend like I don't care – she's only eleven. I'm fourteen. I don't care really, but I worry about her. Not so much to the point where I'd ask her what her problem is, but I'm sick of people who use me in some way. Lucius used me to try and pretend like he was still in the Dark Lord's good graces. And Hermione uses me because she's so miserable with her own life.
"I've learned my lesson about not seeking revenge on others and such. I can tell that she may be a problem in the future, but I don't care. I'm just going to be myself. Speaking of that, there's a wonderful field of flowers out behind the greenhouses… I'm going to ask Professor Sprout about them tomorrow. I miss the one we had in the backyard. I miss you three most of all, though…"
The following morning, Harry, Ron and Hermione sat at breakfast, comparing schedules with their Housemates as McGonagall distributed them. Hermione was thrilled, seeing that she had Advanced Arithmancy first thing that morning. She had poured over numerous number charts that summer in preparation for her N.E.W.T. level coursework, and she took pride in being the only Gryffindor in her year taking the class. Ron noted dully that Fleur was also bound to continue the course, upon which Hermione grumbled and stuffed her schedule in her bag before grumpily returning to her meal.
"Oh great," Ron groaned. "Double Potions with the Slytherins before dinner tonight… Least we have Charms with the Ravenclaws. They're alright. Herbology with Slytherins, Defence Against the Dark Arts with Slytherins… Blimey!"
"Well, look on the bright side," Harry offered. "At least Lupin's back for the Defence post."
"Yeah…I guess. But still! Shifty lot, those Slytherins. We'll get 'em good this year, 'n hopefully Malfoy falls off his broom or something."
"I guess," Harry shrugged, not really one to wish bodily harm on others, Malfoy or not. "I'm more worried about end of year exams."
"Bah, we've got Hermione! Don't get your hair in a bunch, Harry."
"You'll have to ask Fleur if you want help with Herbology or Charms, Ronald," Hermione sniffed, still shovelling food in her mouth.
"Oh, oh – sorry. I forgot you're still mad at her. Those her two best subjects or somethin'?"
"Yes."
"How do you know?" Harry asked.
"Does it matter?" Hermione snapped.
"Here we go…" Ron sighed.
"What are you on about?" demanded Hermione.
"N-nothing, sorry. Anyway…you ready to go? Harry 'n me have Divination first."
Hermione slung her bag over her shoulder and marched out with Harry and Ron at her heel. Harry was patting Ron on the shoulder consolingly as they kept a decent distance behind her; her temper seemed like it would never calm down, not even if Fleur died and they offered the Head Girl position to Hermione instead.
Just as the three were about to part ways to go to their respective classrooms, Fleur and friends came round the bend to see her off as well. Malfoy smirked at Harry and Ron – they always tensed up whenever he was around. Pansy and Theodore sniggered childishly when the two groups came to a halt. Blaise and Fleur looked rather indifferent and exchanged bored looks while Malfoy spoke.
"Well, well, well. Top of the mornin' to ya, chaps. And lady."
"What do you want, Malfoy?" Ron glowered.
"What? Are we not allowed to have some friendly chit-chat? I thought we were all friends here?" Malfoy beamed, brushing off his Head Boy badge as he did.
"You can't take points away for no reason," Hermione pointed out irritably. All of the Slytherins but Fleur and Blaise chuckled, and Pansy smiled sweetly before speaking up.
"What better reason to dock points than for you being in our way? Now how about you move before Malfoy lets slip that he'd like you to have detention with Snape?"
"Cut it out," Harry snarled. "Should have known you all would take the opportunity to abuse your power. You're all terrible."
"At least we have power, Potter. I don't see a badge on your chest," Malfoy remarked snidely. "Too bad, too bad – defeating the Dark Lord doesn't qualify you for any sort of metals. Or better friends who could even afford anything of the sort."
"Goddamnit, Malfoy, sod off!" Ron barked. Hermione grabbed his arm before he could advance any further, and Crabbe and Goyle cracked their knuckles appropriately.
"Just stop! It's not worth it—"
"It's not worth it!" Malfoy mocked in a false girly voice. Hermione blushed furiously and let go of Ron.
They all cracked up again except for Fleur and Blaise, who nodded to each other before walking off to their classrooms. The rest of the Slytherins stood there, dumbfounded. Harry, Ron and Hermione were also baffled – it's taken them years to realise that Blaise and Fleur never join in on the jest. Hermione shook her head and mumbled some kind of goodbye to Harry and Ron before they all dispersed.
Hermione kept her head low while she walked a safe distance behind Fleur's billowing robes. She went and made a fool of herself for the umpteenth time in front of Fleur. The annoying sound of the Veela's heels clicking in the hall made Hermione sigh irritably; she was the only one in the castle who wore heels. How long was it going to take for her to realise that it's too cold here for that?
She was too annoyed, taking her glorious chance in having a reason to mentally reprimand Fleur that she didn't notice she walked into the Arithmancy classroom and took the seat at the desk with Fleur in the back of the classroom. Before she could even think to get up and move, Professor Vector greeted them and jotted down the seating arrangement with glee, glad to see some House unity happening. Hermione kept her groans to herself and stayed seated.
While the rest of the class filed in, Hermione was torn in between wondering if this was a good situation or not. She kept watching Fleur out of the corner of her eye, hoping she'd make a remark about why Hermione was sitting next to her. But Fleur said nothing. Hermione felt much shorter than she was with Fleur nearly towering over her. She stared ahead the whole time, eyebrows knitted and jaw set, only moving her hand up occasionally to brush her fringes from her eyes.
Hermione focused on her notes during class, noting to herself that Fleur smelled of earth and flowers. She was expecting some expensive perfume of some sort, really. Now that she noticed it, Hermione couldn't ignore the smell while she flipped through her textbook to the page Professor Vector asked. Fleur didn't move, she didn't even get out her textbook – she only stared straight ahead, twiddling her quill in her fingers like a baton. Hermione smirked inwardly; she must have forgotten her book. She wasn't prepared for class, then.
"Miss Delacour," Professor Vector called. Fleur showed no sign of acknowledgment. "I assume without your text you can tell me the Character Number of your partner, Hermione Granger?" Hermione smiled; Fleur couldn't have memorised—
"Four."
"Y-yes…very good. Would you mind explaining how you did this in your head so quickly?"
"You advised us, as a joke I presume, at the beginning of our first class in the Third Year to listen to words in terms of splitting letters we hear into the three rows of seven letters that depict the seven planets. Hermione's full name adds up to forty-nine. Four and nine add to thirteen. One and three equals four. Elementary, Professor."
"Why yes…yes, very good. Five points to Slytherin for your sharp ears. Now…"
Hermione felt like a right idiot for the rest of the lesson.
The days turned into two weeks, and Arithmancy lessons next to Fleur didn't get any better than the first. Hermione became flustered in her efforts to learn her methodical thinking, but the only thing it helped with were the essays Professor Vector assigned for homework. Fleur would always, somehow, have a longer scroll of parchment than Hermione by at least five inches every time. It was the same problem with every other class she had with Fleur just like it's been ever since their first year…
Ron and Hermione were sitting alone in the common room that night; Harry had gone to bed early after growing frustrated with his own homework, on top of Malfoy threatening to take points away from them every time they conveniently ran into each other in the corridors. Both he and Ron were tired from Quidditch starting up again as well. Hermione was equally frustrated with everything else on her mind while she scribbled away, the sound of both of their quills scratching along with the crackling fire ringing calmly in their ears.
"Hermione," Ron said quietly after a while. Hermione stopped writing and gave him her attention, not at all annoyed for the brief breather. "Look…I know we've had a crappy week…but you seem a little up tight. M-more than usual. Is it just 'cause of Malfoy, or…?"
"Malfoy… Malfoy, Pansy, all of them. All of them! They just think they can take advantage of none of us being Heads. They're being downright repulsive, more so than before. As if they have nothing else better to do!"
"Well they kinda don't, y'know…"
"What's your point?"
"I'm just worried about you… Usually you're calm about them 'n all…keepin' me 'n Harry in line 'bout our tempers. Did they say something to you?"
"No."
"Did they look at you funny…?"
"No!"
"Then why've you been so determined to use every inch of the parchment we all bought? Fresh stack and you've been borrowing from me of all people—"
"Because Fleur's up to something!"
"Fleur…?"
"Yes, you know Fleur! She's…she's…!"
"She's doing her work and not saying anything to anyone…?"
"No! No, something's not adding up! How is it possible that she's…"
"Better…than you…at everything."
"What? No! What are you on about?"
"Hermione, calm down… I know you're angry that she got Head Girl and you didn't, alright? Personally I was hopin' Harry'd get Head Boy; I'm lousy. To be honest, yeah, I was expectin' you to get Head Girl. But you didn't so we have to trust that Dumbledore made the right choice. You know the man, he has his reasons for stuff…"
"…you're right. I'm just a little irked that Fleur's always there… She's always there, taking everything in sight that she can get her claws on."
"I doubt she does it on purpose… I mean, you have every reason as her to do your best. Who knows…"
"Ron, not to be mean, but since when do you actually notice what people are going through?"
"Err…well, really, Harry noticed but he wasn't sure how to ask you… So he offered that I talk to you… Because…um…"
"Because…?"
"BecauseIlikeyou."
"I'm sorry…?"
"…because…I…like…you. I like you a lot, Hermione… An'…if it makes you feel any better, I'm one thing Fleur can never take away from you. She can't take you away, either… you're a great person… She's too cold 'n distant to know what it's like to have a friend like you… 'n I just… well… I mean I can understand if you don't…don't like me back… Sorry I took so long to tell you…"
Hermione stared at Ron in a silent shock while the poor boy bit his lip and started collecting his things. Ron didn't dare look her in the eye while he held everything in his arms, torn between getting up and continuing to sit there. His face flushed, the colour moving down to his neck while the silence stung his ears. But his discomfort could not compare to his friends' at all.
Hermione's mind was running wild, trying in vain to figure out if she'd ever led him on or not. She didn't consider their constant bickering to be anything beyond the norm. In fact, she considered Ron to be rather stable if he had it in him to argue with her over this and that.
Her stomach began to clench and churn with guilt and her throat seemed to be out of order; she couldn't manage to say anything at all. She hoped desperately that Ron would keep talking to jog her throat, and he thankfully did so even if he was tripping over every syllable.
"I'm really sorry… I mean…if it wasn't for you, I dunno where we'd be… I mean, Harry 'n Ginny are happy… I figured I'd get the courage to tell you b-before…someone else did… I care about you…a lot. I hate seein' you so frustrated over Fleur… But you're better than her, you know. You're way better… You actually have a heart, y'know… You don't have friends that like puttin' innocent people down…
"An' you know…? Fleur may have her looks but so do you. Don't compare yourself to her, Hermione. She's alone here 'n probably doesn't know how to cope. But me 'n Harry care about you loads, you know that… She doesn't know what she's missin', bein' distant to you 'n all that… But I see what I'm missin' out on… 'n I'd like it if we could…well…be more. If y-you want, that is… I'd never pressure you into anything… S-so...what do y'say?"
"Ahh…Ron, I… I'm not… I'm not sure…"
"I-it's okay, Hermione! R-really! J-just…just think about it? Please?" Hermione nodded slowly, already feeling she was making a mistake with such a small gesture… Ron tried to smile while he stood up with his things. "Okay…okay, great. I'll um…I'll see you in the mornin'. I won't bug you about it or anything…I'll wait 'till you're ready to talk, yes or no…"
Hermione swallowed the knot in her throat while she nodded again before Ron trudged up to the boys' dormitories. Her eyes were wide while she kept staring at one corner of the room with such a distant expression that she couldn't feel her face and eyes anymore. A numbness overtook her but she wasn't thinking about Ron.
She was thinking about Fleur.
Ron said that Fleur is alone here and doesn't know how to cope. Hermione felt a little odd not thinking about Ron's declaration, and instead could only focus on what he'd said about Fleur. She had a nagging feeling throughout her body, telling her that Ron might have been right. And if he wasn't at least right about the coping, then he was right that she was alone.
Hermione bit her lip guiltily and collected her things too before heading up to her dormitory, her mind still reeling about Fleur. She really hasn't done anything to anyone except what she's been expected to do – her duties and staying on top of schoolwork. Her eyes adjusted from the dim light of the common room to the darkness of her cool dormitory while she walked quietly to her bed, the sounds of deep breathing joining her thoughts about the Veela.
She set everything down on her dresser before pulling out her cloak; Hermione decided with a quiet sigh to take a walk, hoping to not run into Malfoy. If anything, she'd make an excuse that she was doing her Prefect rounds; surely he hadn't memorised the list.
But that wouldn't be the first time she doubted a Slytherin's memory…
A deep sigh escaped Hermione's lips while she went back downstairs, pausing momentarily to look at that same corner she was staring at when she first changed her mind about Fleur. Her eyes went out of focus after a while, and she shook her head lightly before continuing to climb out of the portrait hole.
Her footsteps echoed softly through the halls as she walked, her mind vaguely telling her feet to take her out to the grounds. The possibility that she'd gotten herself worked up over false ideas all these years seemed to make a dull haze float through her system. Her stomach was still tied in knots just like her throat – she still felt bad that she wasn't taking Ron's confession into consideration and was instead wondering if she'd been wrong about Fleur. She wasn't sure if she felt anything for Ron, but she knew she felt very foolish about everything now. Everything…
People in their portraits nagged Hermione for waking them with her footsteps, but she was too caught up in her thoughts to think to snap back. Hermione knew what it was like to be alone and to feel out of place. Fleur really hasn't done anything wrong to her.
In fact…wasn't it she who had looked for a reason to hate her? A bout of self-righteousness and self-gratification for a moment of embarrassment that still seemed to be at her heels, even now… Hermione admitted to herself that she learned to watch her step more often to prevent herself from tripping and falling. But the way she'd looked at Fleur with such scorn, it was like Hermione thought Fleur had pushed her down.
As she left the safety of the castle and made it to the grounds, the crisp mid-September air bit into her. She hugged her cloak around herself while she kept walking, feeling more and more remorseful with each painful step she took. She was stressed out from the imaginary rivalry, from the pungent need from her pride to out-do Fleur, and from years of never ever being satisfied with her efforts. Her studies had turned into a chore. It seemed as if she no longer learned to embrace the knowledge; only to show Fleur up, which she'd never been able to do. Not once…
Hermione remembered how surprised she was when she'd discovered that Fleur smelled of such a natural, earthy scent. Of course her name meant 'flower' in French, so there was a bit of a link… Hermione felt a small smile tug at the edges of her mouth while she directed herself in the direction of the greenhouses, feeling her hair whipping behind her from the chilling wind. She narrowed her eyes and held her breath, making a note to wear layers at all times in case she ever up and decided to take other random walks about the grounds.
She was turning eighteen at the end of the week but she most certainly didn't feel like she was. After all she'd been through, she thought she could spot the right answers to everything so simply. But that clearly wasn't the case right now, and she couldn't fathom how and why it was bothering her so. Immense guilt weighed her down while she finally got to the greenhouses, already hearing the sound of someone on the grass nearby. Even if it was Fleur, what would she do…? Apologise? Fleur wouldn't even care… Still, Hermione needed to do something.
And when she finally did find Fleur, she kept approaching, completely baffled as to why she felt so nervous. Hermione was astounded at what she was doing, for one… it couldn't compare to the sight that she never seemed to notice after all of their years of taking Herbology. Hermione felt drawn to Fleur; drawn to the Frenchwoman who was actually on her knees, wearing Muggle garden gloves while she tended to an insanely large field of…flowers…
Ordinary flowers, magical flowers… Fleur was taking care of them all. The field was probably as large as the Great Hall, and they all looked to be in such wonderful health…
Hermione felt her heart beat a little differently, simply amazed that someone as cold and distant as Fleur would have the heart to be so subdued here. Not even the cold fazed her; she was wearing Muggle jeans and a short sleeved shirt. Her hair seemed to be shimmering even more in the moonlight, and she was humming a familiar tune. Fleur…humming? She was…happy here…
Hermione couldn't move. The shame she felt for her assumptions stung the knots from her throat and coated her eyes with tears when Fleur started speaking softly to herself while she moved slightly to tend to the batch of magical flowers… They were all so beautiful.
Ron was completely, completely wrong about her.