Hey guys, I am super sorry I haven't updated in forever and a day. But A LOT has been happening in my life, and I either don't have time, or I just don't have the umph to do it. Now, again I can't promise when another chapter is going to be uploaded, but I know exactly where I want to take this story, all I have to do is manage to get it written, which is half the battle.

Now enough with the talk, I know you want to read, so I hope you enjoy with slightly smaller update.

~ JoyfulTrouble

After a near twenty minutes of sitting on the docks, not letting Hermione out of my arms, I finally begin to relax. With two towels wrapped around out drenched forms, and our body heats merging together, it was quite relaxing. Maybe even romantic, if it wasn't for all the yelling, screaming, clapping, and definitely the staring. It was like they have never seen two people cuddling before. Or maybe it was the still signs of my Veela heritage showing. I managed to go back to human form. But even if I couldn't feel them, I knew my eye's still shone a bright blue.

"Everyone please, can I have your attention!" Dumbledore yells throughout the stadium. "We have the results from the second tournament! In first, for being the first to save what was stolen from him, is Cedric Diggory!" Many cheered and clapped, mostly people who attended Hogwarts, and the other schools mostly sneered.

"In second place, for saving their person right after Diggory, is Fleur Delacour!" The same response happened for me, cheers and sneers from different people. Though Hermione smiling up at me was definitely the best response. It was also a better when she leaned up to kiss me ever so sweetly on the lips.

Hermione shifts in her position in my arms, and in doing so, moving the towel over the cut on my shoulder, and I couldn't hid the wince as I'm reminded of the pain.

"What was that?" Hermione asked, now sitting up and looking at me with worry.

"I don't know what you are talking ab— hey!" Hermione was now pulling the towel off my shoulders, as she gasps seeing the blood stains she missed while laying on my chest.

"We need to get you to the hospital wing, you're hurt!" Hermione all but yells as I wince while she tries to examine the one cut.

"I am fine 'Ermione, I am not the one that was stuck underwater for a very long time."

"Yes, but I am not the one bleeding! We are going now, if you like it or not." And so, that is how Hermione took me to the hospital wing with such urgency she all but dragged me there. I mean, I had a few cuts, I'm not an invalid.

"You know I 'ave super healing, no? I am a veela." I say as we walk through the halls of Hogwarts.

"I don't care, you are bleeding, and I am taking you to get treated." Hermione responds with finality. I huff, knowing there is no stopping her when she is determined.

"Fine, but you 'have to get treated as well."

"Why? Nothing is wrong with me."

I hum, tapping my finger on my chin. "Let's see, somzing about you being under water for a better part of twelve hours just feels off to me."

She glares. "Don't be sassy with me. Besides, I was under a spell, and if anything did happen," she looks around to see if anyone was near, "I have super healing too, so I would be, and am, fine."

"Please, "Ermione, my love, ma Cherie," she rolls her eyes, "it would make me feel better if you did."

It is with that comment that Hermione huffs, nods her head and replies with, "Well I guess so." I smile, and kiss her in thanks, to which she gives a small smile back.

When we arrive to the wing shortly after, it is quite. Only a few people occupy the beds; all whom are sleeping the day away. The room was dim from having most of the curtains closed, and the room had that sterilized smell most hospitals have.

"Madam Promfrey? Are you here? Please, I need someone who needs medical attention." Hermione states through the quite room, with no curtesy to those who are sleeping.

"Yes, yes, what is it?" Promfrey calls as she walks out of her office. She takes one good look at the duo, and notices the blood on the torn shirt of Fleur. "Oh my! Yes, sit down! Sit down! What the bloody hell happened?" I sit down at her request, and with her question Hermione gives me a glare, almost as if asking Yes, Fleur, what did happen?

"Um, some grindylow attacked me during the second task. They managed to nick me a few times."

"Ha! Nick, they got you better than that," Propfrey looks away from my cut, and up to me, "Darling, you are in the hospital wing, you don't need to be all heroic here. You got injured, and we'll fix you up."

As the word 'we'll' was spoken, another lady, much younger than Promfrey, but older than either Hermione or myself, came out of the office as well.

"Do you need anything, Poppy?" She asked, looking between her and the two students.

"No, no, Meghan, everything is —"

"Actually," I cut in, "Can you check on Hermione? She was under a spell for a long time, and under water. I want to make sure she is okay."

"Well of course I can," she said with a cheerful voice, "I wouldn't be doing my job if I didn't." With that, Meghan and Hermione went to a slightly more secluded part of the wing, out of ear shot, well at least of human ears.

"Is she new?" I asked, not recalling seeing her before. Then again, I am new to the school.

"Yes and no, she got here about a month ago I'd say. Or was it longer? Heavens I can't remember. Though before you ask, yes, she is my assistant. Of course, until I retire and she takes my place."

"Zat must be a relief for you."

"Yes, yes, now less talk and more fixing your cuts." She opens the bedside drawer, and pulls out a small, black bottle, with the letters 'RP' written in white.

"So you said the grindylow gave you that cut, what gave you the other one?" She asks nonchalantly as she pours a bit of the liquid, a dark blue, into a plastic cup. I look at her slightly confused.

"What do you mean? Zere was only grindylow." She only scoffs at that.

"Look at these two cuts, see?" She points at one on my hip, a clean cut that seemed to be very shallow. "That one is a clean, shallow cut, one that can only have been made using a fine blade, maybe a dagger. Now look at this one." She points to the one closest to my shoulder. A much deeper cut than the other, and not as clean of a cut. There was also a slight greenish hue to it. "This one was caused by the Grindylow. There talon like fingers have a strong grip because of the gel like substance their pores produce. That is why it is slightly green. It is also, because of the thick talons, that the cut is quite gruesome, not as clean as the other. Much more jagged."

I looked at the cuts, then to her as she began to clean them.

"So, what are you trying to tell me?" I ask, trying to grasp the importance.

"Well it's obvious, Grindylow don't carry weapons. And if they did, it would be a jagged rock, maybe a spear. So whatever gave you that wound, was something else." When Madame Pomphrey put the thick, blue ointment into the cut, I winced and everything connected together. The letter, threating me, and now this cut? Something was after me, someone was trying to kill me.

I hope you like it.