Author note:

There I was with my day 8 fic nearly finished, feeling like I might have time to do a second story for fleurmione week after all, when this idea came to me for day 7. I started doing research, I was prepared to start writing, and then the idea for day 3 hit me across the head (the fleurmione spies fic Fleur and Hermione Versus The Nemesis). The writing for that took over, and because fleurmione week just infects writers with ideas, I started writing the day 4 fic, too. And then the idea for day 1 hit me the day before fleurmione week even started! lol

But this fic stayed in my mind. I wasn't able to finish it in time, and rather than wait and post it late, I decided to share what I did finish, which does sort of work as a first chapter so I'm going with it

romance, humor, Veela courtship, suppose some Veela behaviors are similar to those of birds, mating dances

Day 7: "Why do you have a picture of me?"

Chapter 1

"Good luck, Harry," whispered Hermione. "You'll be fine!"

Hermione watched, anxious, as Professor McGonagall escorted Harry out of the Great Hall for the First Task of the Triwizard Tournament. She looked around. The other champions were gone, too.

Several minutes later, Ron sat next to her.

"Ready to head down?"

"In a minute," she replied weakly. He nodded and turned to some of the other Gryffindor students who were also finishing up the last of their lunch, wanting to rush to find the best seats for the task.

Hermione wasn't really mad at Ron anymore, too scared for Harry to think of much else, and too exhausted from being awake most of the night helping him with the Summoning Charm.

But as she nibbled her sandwich, the more nervous she became.

"Dragons," she muttered under her breath. "This is insane. Everyone's bloody insane."

Without meaning to, she turned towards the Ravenclaw table, slipping a hand into her pocket and absentmindedly fiddling with the items inside.

None of the Beauxbatons students were there.

Hermione felt bad for not wishing her new friend good luck, too. She thought she would see her this morning at breakfast but then the rest of the day distracted her and there was no sight of her in the halls.

She and Fleur Delacour had started talking soon after the Beauxbatons delegation arrived at Hogwarts. At first, Hermione was irritated by how all the boys acted around her, and then she gradually warmed up to the girl, even though she had these odd quirks and mannerisms. But Hermione found them mostly endearing now.

Underneath the bluntness and haughty façade, Fleur was kind and generous. Inquisitive about Hermione's life and interests. She'd even started to wonder whether there might be more than friendship between them.

Her sexuality wasn't something she had spent much time thinking about in the past, even with an aunt who was an out and proud lesbian. She'd always liked boys so that was that. Then she started spending more time with Fleur, talking to her in the library, laughing to herself at her strange little gifts. It had only been a few short weeks and now all it took was a glance from the girl to set Hermione's heart racing.

But Fleur never said anything, never gave any indication that she was interested in that way, and Hermione was much too scared to go out on a limb and ask. The magical world may have been a bit more accepting of such relationships but there was no way she was going to embarrass herself by asking the hottest girl in school if she liked her without being certain the answer was 'yes' beforehand.

Today her worries were different, however. Today the French witch was about to face a dragon. How important were embarrassing scenes of teenage rejection when the girl she thought she liked might die before she ever figured out what they were?

There was still time, though, if she hurried.

"Ron," she said, getting up. "I'll meet you there, all right? Save me a seat."

Taking one more bite of her sandwich and washing it down with a large gulp of pumpkin juice, Hermione hurried from the table to the doors.

::

It was a cold November afternoon, and Hermione was glad she had on her coat, scarf, and knit hat as she bounded outside and down the stone steps, dodging students also on their way to the task.

Her eyes followed the line of people to the edge of the forest. They were walking around it.

She rushed by them all as quickly as she could until the castle and the lake were out of sight. She knew they were heading to the enclosure Harry had described. Large grandstands had been erected around it but she didn't enter. Her destination laid with the tents she spotted on the side of the enclosure.

Once she arrived, Hermione promptly determined which tent held the champions, and paused to catch her breath before peeking through the opening.

All four champions were in varying states of distress. Viktor was standing in a corner, tense and scowling. Cedric paced back and forth as if he had excess energy to burn. Harry looked dizzy, like he might be sick at any moment. Even Fleur, normally so composed and reserved, sat on a stool looking pale and queasy, like she'd just taken a swig of a bad batch of polyjuice potion. Which was saying something.

When Harry came close, Hermione finally pushed forward and entered the tent.

"Hermione?" Harry asked.

She didn't give him a chance to respond, swiftly hugging him. She really was worried for his safety but even as she tried to comfort and support her best friend, her attention moved to Fleur.

The blonde had stood up from her stool, looking glad to see her but also impatient. Her eyes kept darting towards Hermione's arms which were still around Harry.

Oh right.

In the corner of her eye, Hermione noticed Viktor walking towards her for some reason. While she had talked with him a couple of times in the library, and she was concerned for his safety too, Hermione didn't want to waste what little time she had left with him.

Letting go of Harry and going to Fleur, she threw her arms around the older girl. When the champion wrapped her arms around Hermione, the younger witch could sense the relief in her friend. Like she was the only thing Fleur needed. And feeling that proof of her importance caused warmth to spread throughout her body.

"Don't worry, chérie," whispered Fleur.

"Don't worry?! How can I not?" Hermione asked, pulling out of their embrace, captivated by those blue eyes.

She tried to use that earlier warmth to muster the courage to say more. To confess why she was really here. To find out if this wonderful girl felt the same way she did.

But then she noticed the badge on Fleur's jacket. She'd been too comfortable enjoying Fleur's strong arms around her to notice it before.

It was the size of the ones supporting Cedric and the ones supporting Harry that the Creeveys were pushing people to wear, and she'd become so accustomed to seeing them worn on students around school that she'd barely paid it any attention when she first observed Fleur in the tent.

But Hermione was paying attention now. And this badge was very, very unlike the others in one glaring respect.

"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!?"

A/N: As you can see, I combined movie and book depictions for the tent scene. Hermione goes to the tent but there's no Rita Skeeter there to interrupt

Thanks for reading!