Challenge of a Young Heart

by Narthal

Fleur arrives at Hogwarts and struggles to get along with Hermione. Fleur/Hermione.

6. Chapter 6

A/N: Okay, major warning – colossal chapter ahead. This was an extra challenge from the dear friend that talked me into writing this fanfic in the first place (and then managed to 'misplace' the pendrive with the draft of the first ten chapters after the first was already up on FF dot net). He's been amused by the growing length of the chapters and dared me to go near 20k words for once.

This is the result and, as you can see, it took me a long while to put this together. At the moment, life is still giving me a lot of lemons and free time looks more and more like a luxury. I will try to update faster.

Thank you for reading. I appreciate the reviews and the suggestions. They always help to shape up the storyline.

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Chapter 6.

Morning comes and you wake up slowly, feeling well rested for a change. Smiling, you lazily let a few minutes pass as you fully appreciate the positive effects that a good night of solid sleep has on your mind, magic and body. If you can keep this up for the coming days, you'll be in great shape soon enough.

You quickly realize that you've left the bed a lot earlier than usual and that the sun hasn't even come up, but you're so invigorated that it's easy to focus your mind and plan for the day ahead. Trying to follow the sound advice from the Veela books, you remember to sit at your desk, pull out a scroll of parchment and copy the simple dietary instructions for your on-going phase. Maybe the results from a careful diet will be as interesting as the ones you've just experienced with adequate sleep. It's worth the try and you can definitely use the leverage.

With so much happening lately, you open another scroll and write a letter home telling your mother about your wandering into the woods yesterday, even though her answer to your previous letter hasn't arrived, yet. It is unusual to realize that no one told you about the Veela village in the Forbidden Forest. Frowning, you add this to the already large number of things you'll want to ask her when you meet again.

Once all the planning is done, you get up and start your everyday routine, which now includes a bit of meditation and the wandless summoning and banishing of small objects in the quiet of your room. From the long list of wandless spells waiting for your attention and time, you're barely beginning to move on to shield and silencing charms.

The Veela magic feels a little more natural now than it did during the weekend, but there's no denying that it still tires you too much and it doesn't compare to how your spells with a wand are more reliable, precise and already developed for a wider range of purposes.

For obvious reasons, half a week of wandless magic can't possibly measure up to years of practicing with a wand. You'll just have to be patient and keep on learning and training on your own. And this is fine by you. After all, it is not as much a priority as your more pressing need to bring your charms and emotions under a better control.

You get dressed slowly and take your time getting ready, but even though there's no rush guiding your actions, you're done sooner than intended and decide to step out of the carriage, relishing the solitary moments until your friends come after you to start the day.

The grounds are completely still and silent at this early hour. The very air seems dormant, without the softest of breezes to play with fallen leaves. Fresh layers of powder snow spread out in all directions, covering the landscape up to the mountaintops and blending with the fluffy clouds overhead.

The serene profile of Hogwarts towers over the pure whiteness, the most notable sign of human presence around. Your mind swiftly drifts away to your sketchbook and how beautiful this scenery would look if you could correctly replicate it on paper. A thought for later, perhaps.

Solemnly, you watch the break of dawn and the surge of light and warmth, chasing away the remnants of the night. Sunrays spray all around you as the sun lifts in the horizon, leaking through the many uneven icicles that hang from branches and jagged rocks. Each tiny pilar of glimmering ice gives off unusual reflections of its surroundings, melding colors and shapes into a spectacle of beautiful possibilities.

You walk slowly in a large circle around the carriage to rise your body temperature, while performing another warming charm on your clothes. Perhaps it's because you're so far north now and missing your family, but winter has never hit you as such a lonesome and lasting season. You inhale deeply, missing the unique aromas of blooming wild flowers. There's hardly any colour to look at and no melodic twittering from lively birds.

You heartily wish that Spring hurries to arrive.

A very soft chirping close by spikes your curiosity and you decide to investigate. It seems a small group of squirrels is playfully running around and you hide behind a large tree to take a peek. It's entertaining to watch as they go up and down the many tree trunks, chase each other, jump from a branch to another and sometimes disappear behind small rocks on the ground, leaving only their striking bushy tails as evidence of their hiding spots.

The cute display keeps your mind busy and unfazed. Before you know it, the doors of the carriage are opening up already to allow the exit of hungry students all too willing to march to the castle. Some of your friends notice what's going on and come near, laughing with excitement. The little furry animals bolt away as soon as they see the newcomers, disbanding up and away to the trees.

At breakfast, you start to wonder why it's taking so long for news to arrive from home. You are eagerly expecting a bird to show up any day now, bringing a letter from your mother. Pure instinct tells you that she won't pass the opportunity to be quite outspoken about what you mentioned during the weekend, whether it be in a good or bad way. You are curious about what she'll choose to say, but until now, days have streamed by and the silence still remains.

The pleasant chatter at your table is inviting and you engage in an easy conversation with your neighbours. Luna and Cho are now constantly sitting nearby and mingling with your group of friends. The young blonde girl gives you a knowing smile and, keeping her eyes half-lidded, starts to choose bits of food from the plates around while addressing you, "You are looking very nice today, Fleur."

Politely, you smile and reply at once, adding a playful wink, "Merci. So are you, Luna. Did you sleep well?"

"Yes, I did, thank you." In a dreamy and distant voice, the girl whispers for your ears only, "I like what you did. That was a wonderful idea, Fleur."

The questioning look you send her is enough to make her realize you didn't grasp a thing from her words, so she adds on, "This light mix into your natural scent. Such an interesting blend it is, but so subtle that I can't make it out."

The comment is quite odd and you don't have a clue at what she's hinting, so you quickly make an attempt to change the subject, "Hmm... 'Ow was ze start of classes for you, Luna?"

"It was alright, Fleur. Most of my classmates went home for the holidays, so we're still catching up with each other's news. They are very curious about the Yule Ball." Luna's eyes become more focused and she continues, "My father said that some of the next articles..."

Her voice drifts on, but you become distracted as your eyes catch a group of Gryffindors striding in. Your thoughts instantly turn to last night. And Hermione, of course.

You sigh. The brunette seemed really determined to talk and smooth things a bit, though there wasn't that much of a chance for her to share whatever she had intended to speak. Time was against you and you didn't make things easy for her either, but it was an interesting turn of events, nonetheless. That good-bye of hers certainly took you by surprise.

A silly smile stretches your lips and you graze your cheek softly. There's still a little tingling when you recall the fleeting and unexpected gesture of affection. You chuckle and shake your head, very much aware that you must definitely be going out of your mind if something as simple as a peck on the cheek, and one that was witnessed by a professor, gets your brain so worked up this early in the morning. Especially since you're treading such unsteady grounds with her as it is.

Searching the extent of the Gryffindor table, you realize that Hermione is just about to sit down with her friends. The remainder of a smile is still showing on your face and the brunette soon looks your way, meeting your stare. She nods at you, flashing a brief grin, and then turns to answer a question from Harry. The boy noticed your exchange and also nods at you, while talking to her. During their conversation and as they get started on breakfast, on a few occasions she glances at your table. Her eyes particularly linger when they settle on you and the people around you.

You take in the confident posture as she speaks, the firm resolve behind her stares and how easily she seems to be carrying herself today. This is quite intriguing, if all that's been happening for the last week or so can serve as a pattern for comparison.

Oh, well... the overall emotional turnover between the two of you should be enough to make anyone dizzy. It's certainly been keeping you on your toes.

A soft pressure on your left hand makes you notice Luna once again, smiling at you. You cringe and sincerely apologize, "Je suis désolée, Luna. I saw some friends arriving and I did not listen to you properly."

She only shakes her head, amused, and looks at where your eyes had been roaming, "Your friends are from Gryffindor? I have a few friends there, too." She waves a hand at the other table and you find it curious that Fierce-girl is the one that waves back. "I was saying that the Nargles took away some of my things during the weekend. This time it was only personal items, nothing from school. I'm sure they'll give them back soon."

Not knowing how to reply to this, you keep your silence. Still looking at the Gryffindors, you realize the readhead isn't scowling any longer, choosing instead to stare intently at Hermione for long periods of time, and also steal puzzled looks at you. She doesn't even try to conceal her actions, completely aware that at least you are on to her.

Before the bell rings for the start of classes, you quickly leave and find the way to the kitchens. The house-elves are quite busy over breakfast, but they stop shortly what they are doing to acknowledge your presence and bow very low, the tips of their long noses touching the floor.

You greet them and one that is dressed flamboyantly comes to talk to you for a while, squeaking excitedly, "Dobby is honored to see Harry Potter's friend again, miss."

He makes a stool hover closer for you to sit down. "Merci, Dobby. Please, call me Fleur. I wanted to show my gratitude for your 'elp last night." After searching through the contents of your bag, you find what you were looking for and offer him a very good book on French cuisine. From what you can recall of your previous encounters with house-elves, this is a gift they will surely appreciate.

Not allowing him enough time to find words to refuse, you flip through many pages and point out with nice descriptions a few of the photos of a variety of dishes that he's clearly never seen before. You discreetly pretend not to notice the timid and furtive glances from some of his curious companions. It is an interesting book, where each recipe is fully illustrated, showing the ingredients and each step of the cooking process. There is no need to read a single word to follow the instructions and it is very trendy in wizarding Paris right now.

You're thrilled to see how his eyes are wide and curious, entranced by the beautiful display. "I zink your cooking is very good and zis is not meant to suggest any changes. It is only a gift for you to know a little more about my country. I 'ope you all like it."

He finally thanks you profusely. With a bit of reserve, you lower your voice and find your small list, "Dobby, I 'ave to discuss a more personal matter wiz you. I am experiencing an unusual 'ealth condition. A small change in my diet can 'elp me. Zis is a short list of a few extra additions zat I am advised to take, a dose per day. Would you mind telling me if it is possible to find zem 'ere?"

The house-elf nods at once and listens carefully as you read him the list of items, smiling broadly and nodding afterwards, "Dobby can help, miss. Fresh produce are delivered every Saturday. "

You gratefully bow at him, "It is not for long, Dobby. My 'ealth should improve in a month or two."

Dobby soon replies, grinning, "Everyday before lunch Dobby will prepare a portion for miss, until miss doesn't need it."

All you want to do is hug the little house-elf, but you know it would be too much for him. You'll just have to put some thought into another nice present for him later. The bell rings and you promptly stand up, bowing and thanking him once again.

The rest of the day is uneventful and you're falling back into the regular cadence of classes without missing a beat. A few students still react too exhuberantly to your charms and pheromones, though you notice their number is dwindling slowly. Even during the few emotional outbursts that you still can't contain properly, no one seems to think it's too unusual anymore that some boys and few girls stare at you through glassy eyes. There's still room for improvement, but you have the feeling that you're on the right path.

The on-going sequence of lessons and short breaks in the library occupy your full time and, before you know it, the day has zoomed away and you're heading back to the carriage.

On your way there, you try once again to talk to Hagrid, but he's still keeping to himself. You sigh, hoping that this will be over soon. This type of behavior makes him look guilty of all that the Skeeter witch wrote and it's frustrating to see her have the upper hand over his reputation.

At least help will be coming in a couple of days.

In your room at night, you set your things in place for the next day and get ready to relax and read for a bit until you drift into sleep. You write a very long letter to Gabrielle, and you soon recall the inspiring landscape around Hogwarts from early morning as you're piecing bits from your day to share with her.

In an instant, your brain makes the link to your sketch material. It would be fun to send her some sketches with the letter to illustrate what you're telling her. This can spark her curiosity in a good way. Maybe someday she'll want to come to the castle and see for herself all that you've had the opportunity to experience with the Triwizard Tournament.

You turn your attention to the package delivered from home, still set aside and untouched. Not feeling tired yet, this seems to be a good moment to finally dedicate some attention to the hobby you've had since childhood. Picking up the box carefully, you empty its contents on your desk, checking out the large sketchbook and the various types of pencils and charcoal bits.

It's been a while since you last portrayed any images on paper. Back at home, your friends were used to seeing you all around the Beauxbatons grounds, completely absorbed into a new challenging sketch. It always helped you unwind from all the school work and stress, while also keeping your mind alert to detail. And right now you can benefit from all of that.

After little hesitation, you decide it's worth a go. You try to draw the furniture and many small objects around your room for starters. At first, the pencil you picked feels alien in your hands and you're not happy with the results. A bit of patience and lots of practice later, though, it all comes back to you and nice sketches start to take shape before your eyes.

Aiming for a harder target, perhaps it's time to test your skills and see how you perform when drawing not what you see before your eyes, but what you recall from memory. Slowly, you set down the lines of a scene from the first task of the Tournament, when you caught sight of your designated dragon, standing in a pit over the eggs. Your hand moves in quick and careful strokes as you evoke more and more details to add to the sketch.

It takes you a full hour until a decent rendition is complete and it pleases you to see that the traces are firm, the composition is balanced, and that you got the perspective right. You end up smiling widely. This makes you confident to try and draw other important scenes from memory as well.

Including a few that took place at the Yule Ball and that have been haunting your dreams at night, but that you'd still love to revisit from time to time.

Finally feeling satisfied and a little tired, you put away the sketch materials, let the room fall into darkness and swiftly settle under the duvet. As a pleasant surprise, once again you're quick to float away in a thoroughly relaxing sleep.

Later on the following day, a Wednesday, you have free time after lunch and decide to go to one of your quiet spots close to the lake. This is turning out to be typical for most of your large stretches of free time and you enjoy being alone with your thoughts, books, some magic practice, and now, also sketches.

You comfortably wander through the well-known corridors, not a care in your mind, finding your way till you reach a specific old tapestry hanging on a wall. When you lift one of its corners, a long secret passageway is revealed, snaking away into almost complete darkness. It is lit by a single weak torch that starts to flutter as a small rush of air sneaks around you.

Stepping inside, you walk slowly and with an outstretched arm to avoid unpleasant surprises in the poor lighting. The soft flame plays with your shadow and with the many small glinting speckles on the stones from the walls, giving the place an eery appearance. No matter how many times you use the same shortcut, you just can't get used to it.

In a few more strides you reach the portrait at the other end of the passageway and swing it to go outside, to a large courtyard. Your eyes squint almost shut as you shield them with your hands and try to furiously blink to adjust to the bright sunlight that hits you straight in the face.

Rubbing them a little, you are finally able to focus your blurry vision again, only to realize there's someone standing still right beside you, looking straight into your eyes. You're so startled by this that you whimper and almost jump out of your skin, throwing your arms out wildly and completely forgetting about your things, that go flying every which way. With unsteady fingers, you clutch your wand and raise it in front of you.

It must have been an unusual and weird scene, for your ears are greeted with the all too familiar and beautiful laughter that you never stop missing. Hermione comes near you and carefully takes hold of your arms to steady your unbalanced body. You're still shaking and there's no way you can trust your jelly knees just yet, but you stiffen somewhat at her touch and keep in mind not to overreact.

She speaks in a soothing tone, "Hello, Fleur. You don't need to pull out your wand. It's only me."

Your answer comes as a strained whisper, building your voice up from a shallow breath to the next, "Why did you do zat? I could 'ave 'exed your shadow all ze way to Iceland."

Now she has an even stronger fit of laughter. At your expense, no less. You watch, torn between being frustrated or in awe, but then realize it's too infectious to keep your straight face and you are soon smiling a little as well.

She nods in appreciation as she gently rubs your arms up and down with her hands. "I didn't mean to scare you, so please don't be angry. I'm sorry for laughing, but I just couldn't control myself. And that's weird, since I'm not even like that," she says, rolling her eyes playfully. "If it's any consolation, I would've done the same as you. Right now my stuff would be all over the place, too."

You're so close, and then it happens... again. A soft pine odor and you're going lightheaded, mind on full shutdown and already losing your balance. You close your eyes tightly, turning your head sharply to a side, seeking fresh air to inhale, and your back finds a wall as she pushes you gently against it for support. "Fleur? Come on, not again. Are you alright?"

It is briefer this time, though, and you're soon looking back at her, "Oui, I am fine. You just startled me... a lot."

You bring your posture into a semblance of normalcy and try to shift her attention elsewhere, "Since New Year zis courtyard 'as been deserted. I did not even see footsteps in the snow whenever I came zis way. 'Ow did you find me?"

"It took me a while to track you down, but I have my ways," she states with the hint of a smug smile and your eyes narrow a little. The brunette just stares back, clearly amused, "Hey, don't look at me like that! You're not the only one that pays attention to other people's class schedules. Or whereabouts."

Shaking your head, you pick up your belongings with her help, and then stand still to look at her. With a raised eyebrow and arms crossed, you let a silent question linger in the air.

"I guessed you were going to read at that nice place by the lake. Can I join you?" she asks and swiftly pulls a large book from her rucksack to show you. "I brought my own book, though since we both have the afternoon free, I'd first like to straighten out a few things between us."

You frown at this. So she came prepared, it seems. After giving her suggestion a little more thought, you simply nod, "Alright."

Walking together, side by side, you try to keep your charms at the least possible intensity. Leaving for the grounds, you notice there are no other students to be seen, as you had expected, for they now either favor staying indoors or meeting at the other (warmer) courtyards.

In a leisure stroll, you head beyond the outer walls of the castle and towards the path of stones that leads to your spot. Even with the melting snow now looking less white or pure than it did earlier in the morning, the scenery is still beautiful to watch. The sun above keeps a steady warmth and it's a bit windy, but in a pleasant way, and you make sure to stay aware of the direction the currents of air are blowing.

Hermione is being particularly outspoken today, not allowing any period of silence to last long or become uncomfortable. You know she's a private person and it makes you wonder if the fact that you're both obviously alone gives her some extra confidence. Or maybe she really wants to have a good conversation and is trying to keep a friendly mood. It's a visible change from her behavior of late, especially with you. What is going on in that mind?

She stumbles on a few loose rocks, but you manage to grasp one of her arms and keep her steady on her feet.

"Thanks, Fleur. That was a close call." The brunette straightens her rucksack and turns to glance at you, "Er... I've been thinking. What's the story with you and quidditch?"

A puzzled look springs on your face while you try to figure out where that came from, "Oh, ze uniform zat day..." You can't stop smiling a little, "I am not a 'ardcore player or fan. Quidditch can be a fun game and I was on ze team at school. Ze exercise 'elps to keep ze body in shape."

At that, Hermione chuckles softly and you look at her, confused. "What is it? You zink I do not look fit?"

She seems to blush a little, but her head turns away from you and you can't be sure, "Please, Fleur. Most of the remarks at the Yule Ball were from boys praising how fit you looked. And the rest were from girls being jealous at the way the dress robes made your figure stand out even more than usual."

Smiling, it's now your turn to chuckle and hers to look puzzled, "Are you sure you are talking about ze correct Ball? In ze one I went to, all of ze remarks were about a stunning brunette and 'er famous date."

Hermione raises one of her eyebrows, bites her lower lip and silently looks at you for a long time.

A wide grin finally blooms on your face and you give her a wink, "I got you zere, non?"

The corners of her mouth begin to quake upwards and soon she can't keep up the serious face, breaking into a short laugh. She finally shrugs and whispers, "Touché."

There's barely any time to chuckle together, as you've reached the place to step out of the path and trail down through the trees to get to your destination. Most of the snow has melted here, so your steps are slow and careful on the slippery ground.

You notice she becomes a bit uneasy now, looking back at the path a few times. A light touch to the shoulder gets her attention, "Is everything alright? We do not 'ave to be 'ere. Perhaps you prefer to go back to ze castle?"

She shakes her head, "No, it's okay. I just thought I heard something."

You wave your hand and point at the branches of the trees around you, "It must 'ave been ze squirrels, 'Ermione. Zey are following us."

Looking up, she quickly realizes that the small animals, indeed, are hopping high up, keeping tabs on you. Her furrowed brow unclenches considerably as she watches them bouncing hastily for a while, entertained by the playful diversion.

A heavy silence falls between you after that. You can sense the undercurrents of tension building with each new step now, though her jaw is set and her movements are steady. She seems more determined than anxious. It makes you wonder what is this you are about to get into.

With a final left turn, you reach the secluded spot that overlooks the lake. There are many tall trees gathered nearby, their wide trunks standing as a protective barrier against the wind and also casting shadows that shelter you from direct sunlight.

After the long walk in the cold weather, your cheeks are now pinkish and your breaths are coming out in visible white puffs. You take off your cap, draw out your wand and produce a hot-air charm, melting any leftover snow, while the brunette thoughtfully scourgifies a few large rocks for you to sit down and the ground in between, removing any excessive moisture. At last, you cast some warming charms around and she conjures many small bluebell flames.

When you're done, it doesn't even look like you're in the middle of winter anymore.

A soft breeze ruffles your hair and you take your time to sit down and set your bag beside you, reaching inside for the couple of Veela books you're still tackling. The surface of the dark lake is undisturbed, mirroring the tall mountains and the sky above. You turn to face Hermione, noticing she's already nestled on a rock, a book on her lap and that brown stare intently locked on you.

She rubs her hands together and gives them a soft warming blow, "Is it alright if we talk first?"

You are ready to follow her cue, calmly nodding back, "Oui. 'Ow do you want to do zis?"

"We've been jumping from a misunderstanding to the next, " she answers with ease, in a steady voice. "For once, I'd like us to have an honest conversation. Just talk, no fighting. There are things you need to know from me. And if it's alright, I have a few questions for you, too."

You're growing more and more curious to see how this is to unfold, "Do you want to start or should I?"

She places her book at her side, getting ready, "I want to begin. On our last meetings I didn't really say much."

Steering your eyes back to the lake, you nod once and wait.

A little later, you hear a lengthy intake of breath, and then she starts, "There are some long overdue apologies I have to make to you." Frowning, you whip your head in her direction and are about to cut in, when she makes you stop with a soft but firm voice, keeping her face calm, "No, Fleur, you can't interrupt today. Please be patient and hear me out. You'll have your turn."

Your lips scrunch into a thin line and you grit your teeth tightly. She probably takes it as your reluctant acceptance of her terms and she doesn't seem too pleased at that. At least you know she's going the extra mile to keep her temper in check. You put some effort into doing the same.

The brunette stands and starts to walk up and down slowly, frowning a bit while she seems to consider something carefully, "Look, don't get me wrong. It's not that I'm trying to control how the conversation goes. I just want the chance to speak my mind. Let me tell you my version of things and you can step in whenever you want."

In a little while, her pacing stops as she returns, choosing another rock to sit down, this time beside you, at arm's length, "I'm sure you agree there's no better way to do this than to start from the beginning."

She hoists herself to sit in a comfortable position, feet dangling loose above the ground. Her face is still serious and her eyes stray to the lake, "Sometime after you arrived at Hogwarts, I noticed that you were paying a lot of attention to me. It was unexpected. Very unexpected. At first, I shook it off as my imagination playing tricks on me, but days went by and there were too many coincidences to ignore them altogether."

Hermione shakes her head and turns to look at you, "I honestly doubted there could be any good intentions behind your actions, so I was awful to you. That's the first apology I want to make. I'm not one to trust easily and I'm sorry for giving you such a terrible welcome here."

You don't let your stare last long, hoping to keep her at ease, but it's enough to let you see the eager honesty in her eyes, "I noticed zat you were always scowling at me. No one else earned zat from you, not even ze uzzer students from my school. It took me some time to realize I was intruding on your routine and 'ow it bothered you. After I tried to be more distant, I zink it was not so uncomfortable."

She quickly counters your comment, "Don't say it like that. I never noticed anything impolite from you, Fleur. You were respectful and considerate, even friendly, in a reserved way. It was your insistence on being always just... there that made me suspicious, that's all. And yes, when you gave me more space, things felt less strained for me."

You nod in understanding, "I see. My apologies, zen, for being too... intense, maybe. What made you change your mind?"

It's easy to tell by her lighter tone of voice that she's smiling now, "That short discussion we had when you joined SPEW. You made a few comments I couldn't forget."

One of your eyebrows arches up, "Which ones?"

At this, she shuts her eyes briefly, perhaps organizing her thoughts or pondering her next words, "There were several. We discussed a lot about why wizards shouldn't feel it was alright to take advantage of the humble nature and hard-working streak of house-elves... That the traits of their race were there to help give them a sense of identity, not make it easier for others to exploit them."

You consider her last statements and finally agree, "I remember. We were of ze same opinion."

The brunette smiles again, "I know. At the time you were quite enthusiastic on those parts. I could tell it annoyed you a lot. Even passing students stopped to listen to your arguments."

A lasting silence stretches for a while until she tilts her head and maneuvers things in a different direction, "Since we're talking about first impressions, I could never understand why someone like you wanted to get to know me."

Something about how she phrased that puzzles you, "Someone… like me... And zat means?"

"You know... The champion of another school... Someone with your skills... and looks... A senior girl..." Her blush steadily intensifies at each added remark, while her voice dwindles to a barely audible murmur. She then clears her throat rather loudly and tries to change the focus back to you in a steadier voice, though still flashing a bright pink, "Can you tell me what made you notice me, of all people?"

You answer without giving it half a thought, running an idle hand through your hair, "Zat is an easy question. Books. It was 'ow I noticed you in ze first place."

She gives you an incredulous look, "Books? How exactly did that go?"

Your mind drifts to early memories of this school and the brunette, "You know I did not come to 'Ogwarts for ze tour. Far from it. What earned me a place in zat carriage was ze Tournament. My family felt proud zat I would represent Beauxbatons. My 'Eadmistress was very supportive. I am sure you must 'ave seen 'ow ze uzzer students from my school were disappointed at not being chosen champions. So after ze decision from ze Goblet, I gave it my best efforts. Zat meant spending 'ours and 'ours in ze library to prepare."

"Yes, I saw you there a lot. We were not speaking to each other, yet, though," she states matter-of-factly.

Nodding, you carry on, "Zere were many times when I looked for specific books on ze shelves and I did not find zem, nor were zey on loan, according to Madam Pince. At ze end of ze days, most of zose books were neatly stacked on a table deep in ze library. Always an organized pile of books, always on ze same table. I was surprised by zat and started to check not only ze books I wanted, but also ze uzzers in ze stack. Most of zem were on advanced magic. Some 'ad to do wiz 'ouse-elves. And I often stumbled upon ''Ogwarts: A 'Istory', too."

You notice she's blushing a soft pink again, as you speak. "I expected to find a senior student sitting zere, maybe even one of ze uzzer champions. But when I finally discovered who used zat table, it was not as I expected. Instead of a senior student or a champion, I found... you." Your lips stretch into a small smile at the memory, "It was 'ard to believe. I 'ad to look again on different days until I was convinced. You really were ze one who used all zose books and studied magic too advanced for your year in school and your age. Zis made me curious."

Her eyes remain fixed on the ground, "So you asked around about me? You seemed to know a lot about my timetable, what I did, who I spent time with, even where I went."

Frowning, you shake your head and explain, "Non. I did not want to ask anyone. It could start foul gossip and I zought it was better to avoid zat. Ze zings I overheard were your name and ze part everyone said about you being ze best student 'Ogwarts 'ad seen in a long time. Everything else was simple observation."

As the words pour out, you relive the still vivid mental images, in a quick trip back in time, "At first, I only knew you liked to stay in ze library for 'ours to read and do 'omework. After zat, I noticed uzzer zings you did, like campaign for ze 'ouse-elves and 'elp 'Arry on ze Tournament. Zen I started to watch your friends and 'ow you all got along. I read zat book on 'Ogwarts to understand about ze four 'Ouses and what being a Gryffindor meant... You can see zat it was a sequence of small zings. One led to anuzzer, zat led to ze next, and soon I was noticing you, ze charming girl who did all zat, who was behind all zat. Before I realized when, why or 'ow, I could not stop zinking about you. All of it made me want to get to know you better. I just did not know 'ow to come to you." You finish in a hoarse and weak voice, your throat feeling gritty and quite dry.

You keep your eyes trained on the lake, unable to muster enough courage to address Hermione directly. She remains silent, though, and as time passes, it starts to feel awkward and difficult to bear. Finally risking a glance at your companion, she's biting her lip and shyly tucking away a few locks of her curly hair, almost completely concealing her face from you. Her reaction nearly makes you cringe. How much can you really tell her? How much can she handle?

Clearly, it's up to you to do something about the lasting silence. "You look bothered, 'Ermione. Did I say too much?"

She asks in a small voice, "Is it the truth?"

Your reply carries a surprised and slightly indignant tone at that question, "Oui, but of course. 'Ow could I lie about it?"

Smiling, she shakes her head, chuckling at your reaction, and then locks eyes with you, "Then I definitely want to know about it, Fleur. I had no idea of any of this."

You remain silent, appraising her. This far, the conversation seems a bit jumpy, but still flowing reasonably well. You only hope it stays like that.

There's a lot of hesitation inside you and you're not sure this is good timing, but you finally decide to go for it and reach out to squeeze her hand, which feels a little cold, "An 'onest talk, non?"

Surprisingly, she doesn't pull hers away, "Yes, please." A soft squeeze back is her swift response, breaking contact soon after.

She rubs her hands together for a while, and then stretches her arms to pick up her rucksack. Pulling out a red and gold scarf, she sets it on her lap to cover her hands, sometimes wrapping it around them.

Once ready, she starts again, moving on, "Well, shortly after that, we finally met at the library and talked for a little while. I didn't know why you were being so evasive with the Yule Ball, so I assumed the worst. I thought you were criticizing Hogwarts and I had this urge to defend my school. I pushed and pulled until I got answers from you and they weren't what I had expected." She sighs before adding, "That night I began to wonder if there was more to you trying to talk to me than I had considered."

This pales you a bit, "Oui, I wondered if you 'ad zought about zat before. It could be quite a surprise for you. Probably not in a good way. Please understand zat I was trying not to pressure you. I lacked ze courage to say anything on my own and I would 'ave still kept zat to myself if you 'ad not been so insistent."

She nods, fiery brown orbs trained on you, not missing a single of your words, "I know, but I wasn't going to stop until you gave me a straight answer. The more you refused to tell me, the more I would've insisted."

Her voice carries on, distant and soft, wavering here and there, "That night changed things between us. In a way, I think it changed us. Well, maybe no, not really... You didn't change at all, since you were finally being yourself. But it definitely changed me."

You watch her closely, realizing the heaviness in her features and the anxious way her hands fidget with that scarf. It's enough to make your stomach sink low.

And now she resorts to whispering, "I hadn't suspected a thing, Fleur. Until that night, I had never thought of you like that. And afterwards... it was all I had in my mind. That was the first of many sleepless nights for me."

You swallow thickly and your heart thumps faster. Okay, you are now officially mortified. All this time you'd been worrying mostly about your own situation, thinking she just didn't want to deal with you. Until now, you hadn't considered the possibility that she could've been going through a rough ride herself.

In your sudden uneasiness, a prickling sensation starts to spread over your back, shoulders and nape. It's a strong and focused tingling, different from what you've experienced this far. The unpleasant currents crawl deep and you can sense the tensing of muscles in their path.

The brunette becomes quiet and her face is unreadable. Even though you rake your brain for anything to reply that could have a positive effect over what she just said, your search turns out empty, so you keep your silence and let her decide how to proceed from here. Distractedly, you stretch your arms and back to relax some of the twitching fibers.

Trying to find a good distraction and give her some time to herself, you reach out for your bag. Opening it, you aimlessly go through its inner pockets, until you remember a box of small assorted chocolate bars and toffees that Gabrielle sent you, plus another one of some of your favorite peppermint sticks. They are all richly flavoured and something tells you that a small dose of sugar into your systems is more than welcome now. You take the boxes out, leave your bag close to the books again and set the sweets between you, on the rock you're sitting.

Curiously, she takes a look inside and smiles, stretching a rather unsteady hand for a serving. You pick a chocolate bar as well to distract yourself, nibbling the dark candy and trying to savour the treat calmly, although your crunching stomach is not helping one bit.

She then starts to swing her feet back and forth, tapping her ankles lightly against the rock, probably to calm down. Regaining her voice, she starts again, "I guess it wasn't easy for you, either, since you were quick to try to talk to me at breakfast. Honestly, a part of me hoped that you'd be a complete git then. If you said or did something really foolish, I could finally have a good excuse to go raving mad and forget all about you. "

Hermione shakes her head, looking down, "I remember people were staring at you all over the Great Hall and not one of my friends gave you a warm welcome. But still, you didn't go away. You just stood right there, in front of me, and I couldn't find words to talk to you."

"I 'ave to interrupt," you make room for a small intervention right then. "Why? Why would you not talk to me?"

Hermione gives you a pained look, "Sorry, Fleur. I have to deal with my own problems. That's something I can't share with you. Not now."

The answer frustrates you to no end, but there's nothing to do about it. The resolve in her voice is final. You make a mental note to find another opportunity and ask again until the answer comes.

Despite her efforts, she can't completely conceal her growing discomfort. The brunette seeks another toffee and her fingers play with the wrapper, idly tying it into countless tight knots as she speaks, "When it became unbearable, I finally looked at you. It was then that I knew you weren't there to be any type of git. You actually... cared. You were worried sick. And it made things all the worse for me. I was prepared to put up a fight with an insensitive Fleur in front of the entire school, but I wasn't ready to face a concerned Fleur and have a real talk to fix things. I didn't know what to do or how to be myself in front of you anymore... And I guess you probably thought I was upset or that I wanted to stay away from you, right?"

By now you're wondering how many degrees of queazy you must look. You close your eyes and turn your face away from her, "Oui, zat was what I zought. Both options."

She sighs sadly, eyes lost ahead on a bunch of loose leaves caught in a weak whirlwind, until her attention slowly returns to you and she hums a reply, "Mm-hmmm. Which makes perfect sense, since you disappeared from the face of the Earth for weeks... I was the problem, not you. It took me the longest time to sort through my own thoughts and feelings until I put myself together again, until I believed I could try to talk to you. I want to apologize for this, too. All that time... It must have been dreadful for you. I am so sorry, Fleur."

You only give her a blank look, "It seems zat it was a lot for you to 'andle."

She shakes her head slowly, her posture a bit rigid and her eyes locked away on the lumps of snow right beyond the limits of your little warm spot, "I had it coming, Fleur. I should have been better prepared."

A quizzical glance from you is dismissed with a wave of one of her hands, "Please, don't press this... Anyway, for a long time my mood was all kinds of wrong. My friends pretended not to notice at first, until they couldn't hide their concern anymore and started to ask awkward questions. Every day felt like a new challenge. But the worst were the nights, when there was nothing to distract me. I had hours and hours to think by myself."

With unfocused eyes, she bites her lower lip and rubs her hands. She remains lost in her own mind for a few moments, before adding in a low tone, "I was in the middle of dealing with all of that when the Yule Ball happened. That night I had to especially spell my make-up to hide my puffy eyes and the purple rings under them. And to top it all, after all those weeks this was the first chance I'd get to see you again. I didn't have a clue on how it would go. It made me curious, scared and nervous at the same time... It was a hard blow to finally be in the same room as you and notice how sad you were."

You frown at that, "You knew I was going to spend ze night wiz a date I did not wish to 'ave, and zat you would be wiz someone else. Why were you surprised to find me less zan 'appy?"

She crosses her legs and shivers. You notice the warming charms are wearing off, so you pull out your wand and repeat the spell around you, immediately feeling the renewed rise in temperature.

Nodding shortly in appreciation, she continues, "Well, I surely didn't suppose you'd be euphoric, Fleur. But that sadness was so intense that it seemed to come off in waves from you."

This is no news to you and your tone is nonchalant, "Ze charms. You were sensing my feelings at ze time."

She looks surprised, "How so? I thought the charms were some kind of extra perception of yours."

You shake your head a few times, "Ze charms work both ways. Zey 'elp me sense emotions from uzzers, be more perceptive about ze ones around me, but zey are also a projection of my own feelings. It is a bit complex to explain. At ze Ball ze charms expressed my poor emotional state. Since you were already sad, ze extra effect from ze charms could 'ave added wiz your own. Perhaps zat was what made you cry at ze Entrance 'All, non?"

The brunette stops to consider this before answering. She sighs, looking tired and drained, "I'm not sure. Too many things were piling up over the evening. It wasn't amusing to see you that sad, being with Viktor was not what I had expected, and the fight with Ron was the definite downturn of the night. After that, I didn't think that you'd worry enough to come looking for me. I hadn't expected to spend time alone with you like that. Maybe the charms were the final push to my break down at that moment. Maybe not. I don't know. I never understood why it happened."

"Je suis désolée," you reply, lowering your head. "I zink it is ze best explanation. So it was my doing, zen."

Unexpectedly, you feel a soft warmth on your right hand and you look up, startled, realizing that Hermione has wrapped it in one of her own, while looking at you seriously, "Well, you were also the one that fixed it, Fleur. While you held me I felt calm and protected, like nothing bad could ever reach me. There wasn't sadness anymore. I forgot about any worries, fears or anxiety. It was peaceful as I hadn't felt in a very long time. I'm sorry I didn't give you a straight answer before, but that was the best part of the Ball for me. Just sharing that moment with you."

You look at her for a long while, finally stating in a low voice, "It is nice to know zat. Zank you for telling me."

She nods and keeps straight ahead, retracting her hand back to the scarf, "And that brings us to that meeting during the holidays. The corridor with all the broken vases." She sighs, "I'd never thought of myself as someone that could be so terrible to handle words until that day. Honestly, if I hadn't been there, I wouldn't believe I'd ever make such a blunder."

Your lips scrunch in a tight mesh, "Zings got out of hand. I made my own share of... blunders."

Tentatively, she hesitates a few times before actually speaking, choosing her words, "I told you I hated how things are between us now and I said that-"

You tense instantly, trying hard not to look at her, "-you wanted normal... I remember."

She appraises you, half-curious, half-peeved, "And you react the same way, even a week after it happened."

Ruffling your hair and gritting your teeth, you're doing what you can to try and keep your temper and voice from rising, replying a bit coldly, "You expect me to take it well now? Perhaps because it was a few days ago?"

She pinches the bridge of her nose and clearly makes an effort of her own to stay calm, "No, I would never expect you to accept something like that from anyone. Certainly not from me. I don't even know what you thought not normal meant."

You shrug, not sure of what to answer, "I did not understand, but ze words stung just ze same. Perhaps it was because we are both girls. Or it could be about my Veela makeup."

Taking a deep breath, she fully turns to look at you, "I see... Now your prejudice comment and the whole SPEW badge thing make sense. Well, I don't have any issues with you being part-Veela. It would make me a lousy promoter of house-elf welfare if I thought so poorly of magical beings other than wizards. And you shouldn't forget I get to taste a bit of prejudice myself every now and then. I'm called Mudblood by a few Slytherins that think too highly of their pure-blood status."

Your eyebrows lift considerably at that, "You... are muggle-born?"

Hurt pride flares in her tone of voice now, "Yes, I am! Is that a problem?"

You frown and straighten your back into a stiff posture, clearly making known your disgust at the mere suggestion of that, "Non, of course not. I just did not know it. You 'ave amazing magical abilities and I never wondered about your lineage. Few students at Beauxbatons are muggle-born. It seems to be more common 'ere."

She looks at you curiously, "Mm-hmmm... Well, to end this for good, I never had a problem with you liking girls."

Shaking your head, you correct her at once, "I do not like girls. I like one girl. Zat is ze reason for all zis chaos, since zat particular girl 'appens to be you."

A shy glance sets on you and you give her a determined look that says it all. "That's... an interesting way of putting it."

Moving your eyes back to the lake, you pause briefly, and then reply with ease, "Non, zat is ze only way of saying it. Zat is simply ze truth."

She sighs and you have to wonder if that exchange shakes a bit her resolve. Her voice quivers slightly and she continues without acknowledging your last phrase, "I needed to tell you that you got it all wrong that day. Things were not what I had meant to say and I never had a chance to finish what I started."

You nod curtly, "I am listening now."

Realizing her voice is filled with a renewed fire, you brace yourself for what may turn out to be another bumpy ride, "None of this should be happening with us. Hate is a strong word, I know, but I really hate how we only antagonize each other now. I hate that I can't walk right up to you whenever I see you or whenever I feel like it and just talk about anything. I hate that I never got to tell you how much I worry about you being in that horrible Tournament. For weeks I've been daily hating the fact that you avoid me like I have dragonpox or something worse, even though you could clearly see how much I tried to talk to you."

You pick a peppermint treat, taking extra time to actually unwrap and taste it, stalling, while you run her words over and over in your mind, to get their full meaning, "After our talk at ze library, I stayed away because it seemed to be what you wanted. And zen came ze Ball, and zis time I was ze one who did not feel like talking to you. I know you 'ave every right to choose what is best for yourself, Mademoiselle, and so it seemed zat you 'ad made a choice. All zat was left for me to do was try to accept it."

Her brow unwrinkles and arches up in mild surprise, her voice softening unexpectedly, "It doesn't add up. If you thought you had to accept Viktor and me, why wouldn't you at least talk to me, then?"

"Accepting it does not mean enjoying it as well," you argue swiftly. "It may sound selfish, but I did not 'ave ze will to endure being a witness to the newest couple in ze school. I tried to be polite enough to never refuse to greet you both at ze grounds or in ze castle in front of uzzer people, but when I saw zat you wanted to talk to me alone, it was asking too much of me. And, for ze record, I still doubt you are serious about 'im."

Her eyebrows jump up and she outright laughs at that, "You have guts, I'll give you that." Shaking her head and smirking, she chooses a teasing tone, "You must be really distracted these days, Fleur. Didn't you see the hole in that reasoning of yours, yet?"

Tilting your head, your eyes narrow a bit, "I did not get zat. What do you mean?"

With a soft chuckle, she deadpans, "You talk about Viktor and I as a couple. Just think about it a little. What does it say about me if I'm with Viktor and I end up almost kissing you..." Her face flushes crimson at this point, "... or letting you kiss me, whatever... in a lonely corridor high up in the castle during the holidays? Granted, I didn't have the nerve to go through with it, but still..."

You stare at her, blankly. Are you really hearing this straight?

She watches your confusion with growing amusement. "You knew something was off and you more or less called my bluff, but you didn't push it much. Or maybe you were too caught up in your own struggles and got sidetracked."

You can't make out what she's trying to tell you and you know it's obviously stated in your features.

After a short pause that she thoroughly enjoys watching you, she finally offers, "I'm not with Viktor, Fleur. In a way, you were right all along. I was never in a relationship with him. Or anyone else, for that matter."

This was sure to get your attention. Your eyebrows lift in a flash and you try hard to keep your chin in place and not gape in the most silly of ways. In your present awestruck state, you can barely speak, "Wa-what?"

A very small smile finds its way on her lips, "Yes, it's the truth, though nobody knows about it."

A deep frown creases your forehead, "But you are always together since ze Ball."

Her voice is neutral, "No, we're not. He only asked me to be seen with him for a while until the holidays were over. It was all for show so his fanclub would leave him alone. It went on until the following weekend and that was it."

You still frown. There's no way that you can blank out the memory of that kiss you witnessed at the Ball, "'Ermione, 'ow can you not be or not 'ave been tog-?"

Surprising you, she quickly covers your mouth with a couple of fingers, giving you an intense look, "Do you think you can trust me, Fleur?"

You consider her words carefully and finally nod a few times, slowly.

"Then, please, believe me." Retrieving her hand, she keeps a heated stare on you, "No matter what you might have heard, what you saw or what you think you saw, I am not with Viktor Krum, nor do I wish to be with him. He asked me to help him a bit and I agreed at first."

In a low voice, you still venture weakly, "So even zat is over?"

She only shrugs as if it was of no importance, "Yes. I already talked to him. After our conversation during the weekend I thought it was best to stop that. Things were becoming too confusing between you and me."

Your brain starts to spin. She was concerned about the two of you? It's quite hard keeping up with the sequence of news.

Noticing your shock, she continues, seriously, "Also, Fleur, I want to make one thing clear to you, since it annoyed me greatly that you got the wrong idea... If I were dating someone, that test of yours would never have happened. I would've put up an unbelievable fight before letting you anywhere near me, fake experiment or not. Can you understand that?"

You nod repeatedly, feeling very uncomfortable, "You also 'ave to understand zat I do not go around doing zat to people. Actually, I 'ad never done zat before. I was proving my argument to you and I did not 'ave much faith on what was going on between you and Mr. Krum."

She gives that some thought and offers a small and brief smile, "Fair enough. I never thought much about it, anyway. Your intentions extended only to me. That much was clear."

Still surprised, you press on the same direction simply because you feel the need to hear it once more, "So... You are not wiz 'im... It is really true?"

Her answer comes as slow nods, not looking at you.

Something starts to feels odd and you notice a change in her, an escalating anxiety. It's even affecting you to sense her growing discomfort, and you take a few calming breaths, aiming for a blank mind.

Maybe the best you can do to help is try to talk her out of whatever tight spot she is in at the moment. In a steady voice, you steer the conversation ahead, "'Ermione, why tell me zis now?"

She barely hesitates, "I should've told you long ago, Fleur. I just wasn't prepared to handle the things that could come from this. I'm surprised you're still even talking to me when I've turned you down so many times. You kept trying, even though you didn't know if there was a chance I could like a girl that way, if I'd ever want anything with you."

Without even noticing it, you've been tightly wringing your hands for quite a while. Slowly, you break them apart and put a book on your lap, letting your fingers run through its engraved cover to keep them busy. "Zat is one of ze reasons I was so clumsy about 'ow to approach you since ze beginning. I never 'ad to do zis before. Ze problem wiz us was zat zings only got worse and we moved farther and farther apart. Any chance to talk about it kept getting 'arder."

"I see…" She stays silent for a long while, apparently making up her mind. "Well, there are a few things still left for me to tell you."

She looks at you searchingly, waiting for some indication that you are okay with that. You give her a reassuring nod and the brunette proceeds, with obvious caution, "I think you are perfectly normal, Fleur. It was a bad choice of words, but when I said I wanted normal, I meant I needed to have that with you. I wanted us to go back to normal. To be alright together."

Biting her lower lip, she lets out a shaky breath before going on, "I grew tired of all that staying away and the bickering. It's downright frustrating when we could do so much better. We haven't even spent that much time together, I know, but I miss that with you. I miss you. A lot."

You can't hold down the anxiety at seeing her like this, while still listening intently at her every word. Her voice finally comes out in a strangled whisper that you almost have to bend closer to catch, "It came out all wrong, but that weird part of the conversation was my silly attempt at trying, really trying, to find a way to tell you what I didn't want to keep to myself anymore."

She then gives you such a heartfelt look that the concept of breathing completely falls out of your brain. After a long breath, she speaks softly, "Fleur, I... I like you back."

Your eyes widen impossibly and your heart swells close to bursting point. Remaining silent, you can only stare, transfixed and stunned beyond your wits.

"I've been sure of that for quite a while now." She rubs a hand nervously over her forehead a few times, still having a hard time speaking in more than a broken voice, "A part of me... no, let me correct that... a very large part of me is terrified by that. I can't put into words exactly how scared I am, even if it's something I do not want to deny any longer."

"But I asked and you said you were not scared," you somehow blurt out through your current state of bafflement.

She sighs and continues, "I'm not scared of you, Fleur. That's what you'd asked. I'm scared of what I feel, of how much I feel about you in so little time, of what that all means. This changes so much in my life and in so many ways that I'm completely lost. I've never been through anything like this before. Honestly, I don't know what to do. Or how to cope with what I feel. I don't know how to be with you."

Her distress is so tangible, so real, that it's nearly ripping you apart. You open your mouth, trying to form words and actually say them out loud. It's in vain. You try again a few times and you're pretty sure that your feeble attempts mustn't be very impressive. Or what she needs right now.

She rubs her hands together a little, and then folds the scarf on her lap, setting them there. You slowly reach out to hold one and she meets it halfway. Noticing hers is exceedingly cold and trembling, you stroke it for a long while, glancing calmly at her every now and then as you wait for some of the warmth from your hand to spread to hers.

Debating with yourself whether to stand and offer at least a hug or remain like this, a tug at your hand catches your attention and you look at her. "No, it's alright, Fleur. Don't worry so much. I just needed to say it all for once."

You raise an eyebrow at that and she smiles, "You have the same look you had at the Ball. I can guess what you wanted to do. Thank you for thinking about it, but I have to learn to manage on my own, too."

Hiding away any traces of how worried you feel about her, you volunteer carefully, "You are very anxious now, 'Ermione. Is zere anything zat I can do to 'elp?"

She simply shakes her head. "You already have, Fleur. All afternoon. Being here with you to talk about this definitely helps me. I never had the nerve to tell anyone else and I thought you should be the first to know, anyway."

Her discomfort goes on and in a low voice you ask her something that has started to bother you, "'Ermione, do you wish zis was not 'appening? Zat you did not 'ave to deal wiz zis? Is it why you are reacting like zat?"

Her voice becomes steadier now, "No, that's something I could never wish. I told you before that I had it coming. In past years I often thought about my reactions to other people. Not only boys. Girls, too. Being there for my friends and burying my mind in books were some of my ways to avoid wondering so much. I kept putting off dealing with this."

She sighs and pauses a bit. "Still, I know myself, Fleur. The questions were always there. They simply jumped to the forefront when I had to consider the possibility of you. All this time, I tried hard to make you give up, to find out your true intentions. And look where we are now... I may not be any closer to knowing what to do, but now I understand that I like you. I accept that, and I trust you, too."

"So, zis... us... is something you want." It was meant as a question, but it comes out as a statement.

And the best part is that she doesn't dodge from it, replying firmly, "Yes, I want this."

In that moment your starved lungs finally manage to fully process air and fill without limits, while a dash of solace stretches deep to your core. Merlin, what a rollercoaster ride.

"'Ave you given some zought to what or 'ow you want to do zis?"

She nods slowly, "What would you say about we starting over? Starting properly, I mean. I want to get to know you better and I'd really like to see where things go between us. You must be a little curious, too."

You give her a winning smile, "Oui, I am. Starting over would be great."

Her answer comes in the shape of a beautiful smile, but it doesn't last long. "I need to be honest with you, Fleur. I still have some issues to figure out and my fair share of insecurities. Are you really fine with us giving it a try?"

You squeeze her hand, rubbing her soft skin smoothly, "If we are going to do zis, we might as well do it right. 'Ow about we give it our best, instead of only a try?"

Pink-stained cheeks and a shy smile make for an even better reply than you could've expected. "I think we can work on that."

You give her hand a last squeeze and pull yours away, fully aware that she needs a chance to steady herself again. From the anxious and somewhat wary way she is looking at you, either she doesn't know what to do or what to expect now that you're both out in the open with each other. Or perhaps she thinks you're about to put some sort of wild pressure on her and just try to rush into things. That's probably why she stopped you from going closer before.

Pointing at the boxes of sweets and picking one for yourself, you drive the conversation to a neutral topic, "You look like you can use a bit of zese, 'Ermione. I zink I do, too."

You unwrap another small chocolate bar slowly and taste a biteful before arguing on, "Zat was a much needed conversation, but it is time to relax a little from all ze stress, non? We 'ave 'ad some complicated weeks lately. Zis might be a good moment for some of ze reading we were supposed to do today. What do you zink?"

Her relief is undeniable and a huge grin widens out as she speaks, now sounding a lot more confident, "That would be great right now."

She chooses a chocolate bar as well and starts to nip away slowly, contentment clearly written all over her face as she sets to wrap the scarf around her neck and pick up her large tome. Her sincere reaction at the chance of loosening her mind within the familiar boundaries of a book makes you chuckle. She's just so true to herself that you can't help but find it endearing.

A few minutes later, you're both settled with large books across your laps. The box of chocolates is becoming more and more empty and it takes only a few stolen glances at her to notice the brunette is slowly going back to her comfort zone.

The major difference between you now is that she is spending most of the time reading intently, while your attention is completely elsewhere and your fingers do the occasional page-turning to keep appearances.

It'd be lovely to quit this fake pretense at reading. Your eyes have remained locked on the same line over and over again, while your brain has yet to grasp the meaning of that sequence of words. You wish you'd packed your sketchbook in your bag so you could use it right now, letting your hands work on their own as your brain had the freedom to drift at will.

Bits and parts of the conversation you shared before are insistently running back and forth in your mind, piecing together a puzzle you'll need to unravel down to its minimal details.

Your focus is far, far away, still wrapped around the girl sitting this close, when your musings are interrupted by an unexpected question. "What are you reading?"

Startled and wondering if she's caught on to your distant train of thought, you choose to remain silent and show her both of your current books. Her curious eyes run loosely over the leather covers, reading the titles quickly, and then she eagerly asks, "May I take a look?"

"Zese would interest you?" is your surprised reply.

She nods at once, "Yes. There aren't any good books about Veela at the library."

You turn to look at her and she visibly cringes, realizing what she just admitted to have done. With a sympathetic smile, you only nod and reply, "Oui, I know. I searched ze library for books as well. Zere are few and zey are not very accurate. My muzzer packed zese for me. I am about to finish reading one of zem, 'Veela - Physiology and Magic.' You can check ze uzzer while I complete zis one and zen you are free to take it wiz you to read whenever you 'ave ze time."

She barely contains her enthusiasm at the opportunity, "Really? I mean, it looks like a very good book. Aren't you going to need it?"

With a nonchalant tone and a shrug, you tell her the plain truth, "Non, I am nearly done wiz it. I find it is more theory-oriented and I already learned all zat I could from it. If I 'ave to check it again in ze future, I will ask you about it. Ze uzzer book deals wiz practical Veela magic and I need it more now."

Her eyes are glinting with anticipation, "Thanks. I'll borrow it, then, and I promise to take good care of it."

You smile and hand her 'Wandless Charmer - The Veela Within' and set the other tome before you, easily finding the correct page to resume your reading. She doesn't event try to hide the look of curious awe as she starts to fiddle through the chapters, stopping here and there for bouts of attentive reading.

You both remain engaged in your own little worlds and a quite comfortable silence stretches long. The few pages left for you to read are soon over and you close the book without a sound. It remains untouched in your lap and your eyes don't fall upon it again, settling instead on any given point of the landscape ahead that draws your short-spanned attention. Your thoughts slowly return to all that you found out from the long talk today.

The sheer honesty of it all was refreshing and, you have to admit, a bit overwhelming, too. There shouldn't be any turning back from now on. From either of you. On the other hand, the amount of questions popping in your head is quite unsettling. You can sense Hermione is scared, even if she's trying to keep a steady face and act as naturally as possible. Given a few unexpected facts you just learned, her uneasiness is understandable. Things should be taken slowly, in a way that respects her own pace.

And there's that something she's not telling you that could be a new problem to overcome. Doesn't she trust you enough? Or is it something she has to solve on her own? Is she second-guessing her feelings? Is she not sure of yours?

A weak headache threatens to make an appearance, that unwanted throb testing your temples. Deciding to think a little less and stretch your legs, you leave your belongings on the rock you've been sitting on, reach for a couple of peppermint candies, smile at Hermione when she stops to see what you're doing, and walk away a bit beyond the limits of your small protected spot.

As soon as you step out of the borders of the magically conjured warmth and the barrier of the trees, a cold whiff sprints around you, picking up speed and setting your hair on a wild turmoil. You run your hands through the strands to set them in place, very aware of how stimulating it is to feel the sting of the bitter cold as the afternoon swiftly slips aways.

You walk a little farther to look at the lakeside below, leaning on the trunk of a tall and curvy tree for support. A soft breeze repeatedly blows, carrying leaves and even a few small broken twigs. Aside from that weak rustling, it's tranquil and silent, the scenery standing as still as it has since the first canvas of snow settled down, back in November.

The sun slowly sets on the horizon and you watch its last traces of gold hide behind the distant mountains. Over the following minutes, the warm colors of daylight give way to the cooler shades of blue, purple and ultimately black, dotted by the piercing glow of bright stars and the appearance of the waning moon.

Many heavy clouds travel across the sky, causing constant shifts in the amount of light that reaches down. When it becomes really dark, you start to wonder how Hermione is still managing to read anything. The bluebell flames or perhaps even a Lumos spell might not be enough to avoid eye strain.

You turn to go back and check on the brunette. Still caught in your concern, another soft waft sets some of your loose strands in play again, whipping against your neck and shoulders. You're barely distracted from your thoughts, except there's something different this time. Inhaling slowly, at once the small hairs at the back of your neck stand on end.

Pine. You groan as soon as you recognize the distinct smell, quickly grasping the trunk with both hands to steady yourself and wait for the dizziness to stop.

"I'm here. Just breathe," Hermione's voice reaches you as she holds your arm and helps you sit down. She sits beside you, an arm loosely running up and down your back, "This is the third time in less than a week that I've seen you nearly faint, Fleur, and I noticed you've been missing meals since the weekend. You should be more careful."

Slowly, your stability builds up again and you start to explain, "My lack of balance will be over soon. It is nothing to worry. And I 'ave not missed meals. I simply ate alone, in my room."

She nods a bit, apparently accepting your arguments, and then continues, "Why did you leave? Was there something wrong?"

You shrug and try to wave it off as something casual, "I wanted to walk a little bit and I got distracted wiz ze beautiful sunset. Just zinking."

Raising an eyebrow, she shoots quickly, "About?"

Tilting your head, you frown at her, believing it was quite obvious, "Many zings. Mostly some parts of our conversation today."

"You seem better now," she comments, briefly touching your neck and your forehead to check your temperature. She then engages in conversation again. "Sorry. I'm all ears. What parts did you mean?"

Tiredly, you reply, "Zose issues you said you 'ave to solve on your own, non? You 'ave never been in a relationship before and you are muggle-born, so I assume ze fact zat we are of ze same gender carries a different weight for you zan it would in ze wizarding world. It is not difficult to realize 'ow zis adds up. I zink I understand your fears, 'Ermione, and I would like you to know zat I am 'ere to 'elp in any way I can... Zat was what I 'ad in mind."

Closing your eyes, you sigh and let your head hang low. Your hair swings loosely, coming to hide a bit of your face. Shortly, you're surprised to feel a warm and hesitant hand carefully tucking a few strands behind each ear, and then slowly hooking under your chin to bring it upwards.

Your eyes snap open, taking in the sight of a concerned Hermione standing right in front of you. "Thank you. Someday I might take you up on that."

She then bites her lip, giving you a serious look, "You really care, don't you?"

"And zere you are, still 'aving doubts," you reply shaking your head and looking down, away from her. "Oui, 'Ermione, of course I care for you, but you still seem to 'ave a 'ard time believing me when I say it."

"Sorry. It wasn't meant as a question," she murmurs softly, with a small smile. "I went through a hard bit to try to figure things out when we were apart. You don't know how much time, day and night, I spent thinking about you. Or how often the mere thought of you was enough to drive me crazy. Every time we got closer, even when it seemed to go terribly wrong, I wished you actually cared. That was as far as I could take it on my own, not knowing how you really felt. But now, like this? Yes, I believe you. It's easy to see that you mean it."

You lift an eyebrow and offer the brunette a different perspective, "Perhaps you are using your brain too much and overzinking zings. It might not be ze best option 'ere."

She narrows her eyes briefly, thinking about it, and then she smiles widely, "Mm-hmm... You might have a good point there, Fleur, though it's easier said than done if you consider we're talking about me."

The corners of your mouth quirk up at the little joke. Biting her lower lip, she tentatively raises her hand and brings it closer, slowly gliding unsure fingertips over your face, in a touch so gentle that it's almost ticklish.

Her hand trembles a bit and there's a new nervousness about her, "Please, close your eyes."

Still surprised, you search her eyes and weakly ask before you comply, "What are you doing, 'Ermione?"

Her fingers continue to trace patterns of their own all across your forehead, cheeks and chin, exploring at will. Sometimes her hand cups your cheek; sometimes a single digit skitters down your nose, over the arch of an eyebrow or traces your lips. Her touch, now firmer and still so tender, sets your senses at full attention and a soft tingling under your skin follows each of her motions.

In a whispery voice, she finally answers, playfully, "I'm memorizing you, the feel of your face, like you already did to me. Twice, as you pointed out so well that day. Consider this the payback I'm entitled to collect. And you have to be nice and let me."

You only chuckle, "Right. Do I get a turn?"

She soon complains, in a light and low voice, "Shhh... Maybe later, we'll see. And don't open your eyes."

There's no way you'll miss the chance to tease a little, "Why not?"

Her tone is now serious and she keeps her voice very low, as if those words were an absolute secret, meant only for you and not to be shared with anyone else, not even carried away in the wind, "Because when you look at me this close you see things inside me that I can't even find the words to explain. I feel completely exposed to you, in a way I never was before. Just... let me get used to this, alright?"

You nod quietly, only wondering how such a soft caress has the effect of both bringing this much warmth to your skin and also be so soothing. This definitely feels like heaven. You lean into her touch, ever so slightly, and barely breathe, conscious that anything can spoil the moment.

Her movements stop all of a sudden and she speaks in a hushed and alarmed voice, "Fleur, look... I mean, your skin. It's... Is it shining?"

You open your eyes at once and take a look, confirming that she's right. The brunette is a little startled and wide-eyed, but she's clearly also waiting for your reaction to see if this is something that needs worrying about. You smile a little to relax her, "Anuzzer small change. I wondered when zis was going to 'appen."

Astonishment is bursting from her, "Another? I have the feeling you're not telling me everything. What's going on with you? Fleur, are you really alright?"

You nod in assurance, "I am simply growing up, 'Ermione. Zis is 'ow it 'appens to Veela. You already guessed most of it, wiz my different brand of magic and ze pheromones. A few uzzer zings will show up in time. Zis is only one more. You 'ave a good eye for detail."

Standing up, you take a few steps towards a cluster of nearby trees, moving your hand from under the moonrays to a shadowy spot and back a few times. The contrast makes it easier to notice the effect now. "It is a soft 'ighlight, see? Ze skin shows a faint glow at night zat is silvery in color. It can only be seen up close and under ze moonlight. Zere are a select few Veela zat take on a golden gleam wiz sunlight, but it is very, very rare."

She walks over and holds your hand to examine it closely, carefully paying attention to each finger, the palm and the back of the hand, trailing the expanse of skin up to the wrist, where the long sleeve of your robes stops any further progress.

"It's so pretty," she states dreamily, finally calming down and turning to face you. She is standing on slightly uneven grounds, so despite your small height difference, her eyes are now almost at the same level as yours.

Once again she tucks your hair away so that her stare has unrestrained access to you. Her eyes search for any and all details, until she whispers with a hint of surprise, "The color of your eyes is different, too. They look silver. I don't think I've ever seen that color in anyone's eyes before."

While she's talking and looking at will, you only stare back and enjoy the opportunity to feast into those chocolate depths that unveil so much wonder and spirit, feeling glad that she seems to be more relaxed. Her expression is curious and serene, not anxious anymore.

She quietly retreats a little and looks at you with such fondness that your heart drums out of beat. Her hands reach up again and gently cup your face. Thumbs that seem more confident caress your cheekbones while she breathes gently, "You look like an angel."

With cheeks burning under her hands at the unexpected compliment, you can guess the intensity of your blush as your dry throat puts together the remainders of your voice to murmur back, "Zat was what I zought of you at ze Ball. More zan ever, you were breathtaking, zen. I was stunned ze moment I saw you at ze top of ze stairs."

She smiles at this, leaning forward, and you notice a new determination guiding her actions. Fascinated and almost unable to believe it, you only watch thunderstruck as her face comes near, until the softest set of lips brush against your own, delicately and only once, halting any further efforts at conversation. It is brief and light, no more than a ghost touch, but still enough to get your heart beating madly and your stomach in a twist, and then her forehead rests on yours while she seems to catch her breath, still grazing your cheeks in that smooth touch.

Your limp arms finally snap to attention and wrap around her, offering shelter and bringing her closer still. The now familiar tingling spreads all through your skin and you can feel it building up on the way to your fingertips. Your hands begin a soothing stroke and the tingles fade into her back as small ripples of warmth, soon rewarded by what sounds like a pleased sigh.

After a short hesitation, she angles her head and the delicate lips slowly return to claim yours. Heartbeat pounding in your ears, you can't get over the fact that she is really doing this. Your eyes flutter shut and you lose yourself in the string of her timid kisses, noticing that each of them lingers longer than the one before, growing hungrier, bolder. You respond meekly, caught up in the swirl of your raging emotions, giving her the chance to take full control at her own pace, to be comfortable about this.

At last, her curious lips stay locked and start an eager and drawn-out massage. She took her time, and now she finally wants more from you. They part and close around one of yours, pulling softly to lure you. All thoughts are pushed aside as you move to match her kiss, molding into her and trying to imprint each detail into your memories. The smooth sets of lips greedily explore, graze and hold, mend and mix. In the sweetest caress, they tenderly learn how to slow dance together.

This is all you imagined it would be. The polite shyness at first, the slow getting acquainted, the heat and adrenaline running freely through your systems, the thrill and delight of finally being able to do this to the one you've cherished for so long and after so many ups and downs along the way. All the time apart, the not getting along, and those awkward misunderstandings slowly fade away into a past that now seems more distant than ever, much less important than only a moment ago.

When she starts to slow down and get ready to break apart, you never have the chance to protest before she swiftly releases your lips altogether and pulls away, her hands gliding down to your shoulders. Your heart remains running wild and your brain couldn't be more lost than in this blissful haze. Her shallow and quick breaths collide against your skin, telling you that she's just as impacted as you are.

While she composes herself, it seems she is now willing to put a bit of distance between you and only the unwavering position of your arms avoids that. There's a strong reluctance on your part at letting her go, and at some point the pleading in your features must have become clear to her, for she only runs her hands up and down your arms a few times, and then they pause and settle, not seeking to further her release from the embrace.

You take a deep breath and open your eyes, quickly finding hers. Still a bit surprised, you ask in a broken voice, while your lungs are trying to remember how to do their job, "Zat... did zat... really 'appen?"

She blushes, nodding with a little uncertainty and some anxious chuckling, "I was about to ask you the same thing."

Several degrees of uneasiness become clear in the brunette. She bites her darkened lips, keeping her stare either set on your eyes, as if searching for something in them, or looking away. Small shivers now and then make her tremble visibly.

You let out a long breath and tilt your head, appraising her carefully. Trying to nudge her into more comfortable footing, you say the first thing that comes to mind, framed by the shadow of a smile, "So zat was Gryffindor courage..."

This time she nods vigorously, and her chuckles are more playful and relaxed, "All of it, Fleur... You have no idea. I just used everything I had."

Openly smiling now, you lift a hand to graze her cheek with the back of your fingers. She awkwardly shifts her weight from a foot to the other, "Er... How was... Was it supposed... Was that alright? For you?"

Surprised at the eager expectancy of her questions, you answer in a reassuring voice, "Zat was amazing. I will never forget zat... your... our kiss."

She bites her lip again, frowning and retorting hastily, "Really? I mean, maybe I should've done something better. Or moved in a different way. Was the pressure right? Not too soft?"

Her ramblings are cute, especially when she is pouting like that, but you know this is not the moment to laugh. Instead, you pull out words to douse those uncertainties of hers, "'Ermione, I zink you are very expressive and passionate when you show your feelings. Zose kisses were perfect and I would not change zem in any way." You wink at her and her cheeks burn up in a crimson color. "Did zat not feel nice?"

With wide eyes she soon replies, "No, more than nice, it was the best thing ever. I didn't know that kissing could be that good or feel so right."

Shrugging, you reach to tuck a few curls away from her face, "Zen why are you so nervous?"

She avoids meeting your gaze, "There's nothing wrong, really. It's just... After all we've been through, I didn't want to disappoint you, but it doesn't help that I find you a bit… hmm… intimidating. I wasn't sure I could do it properly."

"You could never disappoint me. Please do not believe zat," you say with a smile, giving her a peck on the forehead.

"I am going to tell you a secret." Slowly, you lift her face so that your eyes latch to each other again, and then whisper, "I zink you are a bit intimidating, too."

"I am? To you?" she asks, confused. "But why?"

You hold her gaze, grinning at her clear display of disbelief, "Because of 'ow I feel about you now, 'Ermione. It makes all ze difference."

She muses about it and finally nods, "Maybe you're right. I don't look at you the same way I did when I'd first seen you."

"Mm-hmmm... Zings take on anuzzer meaning now. Some become 'arder, uzzers much easier," and you take both of her cheeks in your hands and smile brightly, bringing your face forward to tease the tip of her nose with yours. "Non?"

The brunette instantly laughs and her arms enclose your waist. She lets you keep on taunting along, replaying memories from the Yule Ball, "When you did that at the Ball I almost had a heart attack."

You pull away a little, smiling as you speak, "Oui, I remember."

The clouds above part away and moonlight reaches down all over your surroundings, allowing you to see beautiful glinting sparks in her eyes. The sheer happiness flowing from the brunette is contagious and the size of that grin just begs you to stare. You can only imagine the awe stamped on your face. There's no way you would take your eyes off her now, even if you had to.

While noticing your insistent gaze, she licks her lips, rubbing fingerpads at random on the small of your back. You look intensely at those glazed and swollen lips, gliding a thumb just below their lower rim before turning your attention back up to her chocolate orbs. You must have made your intentions clear, but in a low and breathy tone you voice out the request anyway, "May I?"

Better than answering with words, she lifts her arms to wrap them around your neck, and her blushing face is now very near yours, almost melting your heart with such a simple move. You bring your hands down, back to embracing her waist, never growing tired of her alluring presence. The pull towards each other slowly narrows the small distance left and your lips meet again.

One of her hands skims to the back of your neck and small, nimble fingers comb through your hair, keeping you close. Your hands glide over and knead her back and sides, putting want and care into the gentle strokes. This time there are small smiles and teasing into the kiss, a bit of tugging and nibbling that spice things up, one taunting the other to dare more. The emotional moment builds steadily, quick to consume reason, and you're way past nervousness. Your entire world is completely pinpointed on the brunette in front of you. Nothing else matters but her, right now.

You sweep a moist tip over the meeting line of those reddened lips and she surprises you by kissing it softly, before opening herself to chase it back with her own. An outburst of sensations takes over as the kiss becomes deeper. And now you can sense all that is Hermione around you, over you, crashing into you. Her soft touch on your neck and cheek, the way her fingers tangle in your hair, the feel of her quivering back muscles under your palms, that unique scent, this new taste you're quickly becoming addicted to, the exquisite gasps that escape her parted lips as she is fully absorbed and focused on you, on here and now.

The way you react to her is absolutely maddening. You're sure that if your heart wasn't properly caged within your ribs, it would've pounded its way free and plunged away in the distance. For once, you let your charms completely loose, allowing them to spread out and envelope you, letting her know all that you are experiencing right now. She becomes more breathless and bouts of heat radiate from her, weak moans making known the intensity of her frenzied state.

After you've reached that point, it doesn't take much longer before you feel the dizziness settling in. You struggle to remain steady and try to calm down enough, but realize there's only one way to achieve that and finally start to disentangle from her. Neither wanting to end it, your lips still hover close, coming together every now and then while you try to breathe and gather your thoughts.

Once you're less shaken, you start to move apart a little, enough that you can look at her. Smiling widely at you, she is clearly panting and having a very hard time catching her breath, "What... was that?"

"Zat was my way of showing what you do to me," you reply between somewhat broken breaths as well. "Do you still 'ave any doubts left about if or 'ow much I like you?"

She shakes her head swiftly, "No, not at all... Fleur, I don't know what happened. I'd never reacted to your charms before, only to pheromones."

You try to chuckle, but your ragged breaths turn it into a rather unrecognizable sound. Giving up, you wait until you calm down more to give her an explanation, "Mm-hmmm. Except my charms are stronger now and wiz zese types of feelings, zings become different. Zis changes ze charms and it also changes 'ow you react to zem… You did not lose your mind, did you?"

In a serious tone she is fast to reassure you, "No, I was thinking straight all along. Well, as much as I could think when there was so much to feel in a single moment. That was incredible."

Her head comes to rest on your collarbone, listening idly to your speeding heart and deep breathing. She snuggles closer to your neck and one of your hands lands on her temple, fingertips softly running through her hair and over her scalp. Inhaling deeply, you both take in the other's scent.

She sighs in contentment and you only smile, her loose curly locks now floating freely with an incoming breeze and tickling the tip of your nose, pine essence reaching you at once. It's the first time that you can enjoy the experience and still keep your mind somewhat in place. Sure, you're still a bit lightheaded, but her steady grip keeps you firmly grounded to reality.

Finally, countless minutes later, she slowly leans back to raise her arms and stretch her back, trying to stifle a yawn. Very unsuccessfully, though, and you both end up laughing. It's time to call it a night. Holding one of her hands, you make it back to the spot where you've spent the afternoon. Picking up your things, you hand her the book you'd promised before and she returns the other volume to you.

After shrinking and putting the books away, you both work on taking down the warming spells and conjured flames. The trees hide away the stars and the moon, so your wands remain in use as your Lumos spells are very necessary to breach the thick darkness.

During your long stay, more snow has melted down and, side by side, you start the trek back, which now means a careful climb up a slippery slope to the main path leading to the castle. At the very least, you proceed slowly and redouble your attention, trying to avoid incidents.

On a couple of times she almost loses her footing, but you manage to keep her standing. Once, you are the one to nearly skid over a mud puddle and she surprises you by steadying your stance with a strong grip around a wrist. It seems that the closer you are to the path, the worse the climb and the muddier the trail becomes. You make a mental note to avoid returning here for a while until the weather changes or to update your dress code to be ready to venture this safely.

Without any further surprises, you finally manage to step out of the troublesome trail and catch your breath. It was quite the exercise and you're both strained from it. You smile, glancing at her reddened cheeks, and then, horrified, realize the messy state of your probably ruined shoes. She checks her own and shrugs, shaking her head. It takes a number of spells before you're presentable again.

Smiling, she offers you one of her hands, "Come on, let's get back to that castle. Should be warmer than this and I can definitely use a good shower."

You look from the outstretched hand to her eyes and that unwavering smile, soon reaching back and interlocking your fingers. "Oui, a 'ot shower and a change of clothes would be great right now."

The well tended path to the castle makes the stroll a lot easier, so the walk back is more pleasant and faster. Hermione is right in the middle of a remark about one of the constellations in sight when you stop in your tracks and an unusual uneasiness settles at the bottom of your stomach.

You whirl around, analyzing the path and the trees rooted at its margins, checking for anything out of place. In a little while, the brunette returns to stand by your side and also looks around in silence. Everything is still and there are no sounds other than your labored breathing and the eventual crunch of shoes against stones when you risk another step.

Keeping her eyes on constant lookout, she whispers, "What is it, Fleur? Did you see something?"

You reply in the same tone, slowly, "Non. I just 'ave ze feeling zat zere is something... or maybe someone... watching us."

Not doubting you, she scans the shadows in the woods with more attention, slowly rising the tip of her wand. Yours is already high up and tightly gripped in your hand. She takes a few steps ahead, standing in front of you in a protective stance. One of our eyebrows lifts at once. Definitely, today you got to see the Gryffindor in her. Your left hand lands on her right shoulder lightly, keeping her from walking farther away and letting her know your position.

A soft waft comes at you and you sniff deeply. That's when you notice traces of a couple of hard to miss aromas. Although quite weak, they are very out of place in the middle of winter. Gardenia and agarwood... So there is someone out there. You were simply looking at all the wrong places.

Training your stare at the higher branches of the trees, you finally make out an apparently lonesome figure comfortably sitting against the trunk of a wide tree, looking down at you. It takes you a little longer to find the other one, further behind and much better concealed, crouching at the very top of another tree and carefully re-stringing a longbow, paying no attention to either of you.

Not a patch of their skin is visible, all covered by weather-resistant black outfits, including fitting pants, coats, dragon hide gloves and boots, topped by camouflage cloaks with hoods pulled over their faces. You know the attire quite well. Your own is carefully hidden in a secret compartment of your trunk.

Giving your alert companion a soft squeeze to the shoulder, you speak again, "I zink it is alright, 'Ermione. Zere is nothing to worry 'ere. It is getting late and we should go."

She nods and turns to the castle. As soon as she starts to walk away, you lower your wand and direct a courtsey to the scouts. You notice that now they're both standing and bow back, waiting for you to leave to proceed with their assigned duties. When you reach the limits of the castle and are about to enter the courtyard, you sneak a look back over your shoulder and see them diving down from the trees, disappearing in the darkness.

Fully aware now of how much the temperature has dropped, you quickly make it through the courtyard and close the remaining distance to the hidden passageway. The minimal torchlight is annoying, so your wands remain in use while you tread to the tapestry at the other end.

As you reach it, Hermione pulls out an old and folded parchment, tapping it with her wand and muttering a few words under her breath. You can't catch what she says, but you see its effects, the parchment now clearly displaying a full outline of the castle and the updated location of each of its occupants. Looking closely, you realize that the part of the grounds where you've just been is portrayed in a section of the parchment that remains folded and out of sight.

Smiling, you ask to see it and she hands it to you with enthusiasm and pride, as if she was showing you the best toy ever. Eyes roaming all over to catch even the finer details, you don't draw attention to what you're doing and carefully unfold that bit of the parchment to check out the stealthy wanderers outside. You catch two dots zooming away at a fantastic speed through the woods and now you understand what they had meant when they mentioned counting on good means of transportation to move around, even at night.

Right before they disappear beyond the edge of the parchment, you quickly read their names. One is unrecognizable to you. Not even the name of that Clan rings a bell, but you can tell it must be from some of the most Eastern countries in Europe. The leading one, on the other hand, makes your eyes narrow. A lot.

That's the kind of someone you'd barely expect to meet in your lifetime and most certainly wouldn't dream to find at Hogwarts, of all places. Considering things, now it makes a lot more sense to have detected a scent of agarwood. It is fairly rare and found almost exclusively in those of her Clan. What could she be doing here? Is it an ordinary visit or was she summoned to help the village?

Turning an amused and satisfied face to Hermione, you give her the fancy parchment, "So zis is 'ow you found me today... It is one interesting map, 'Ermione."

She takes it back and quickly starts to check the part of the parchment that displays the castle, "Well, it surely comes handy at times. This belongs to Harry, actually, but I borrowed it for the day." She bites her lip for a while, being thorough in her examination, "Hmm... The lower levels of the castle and the grounds are clear, Fleur, so you shouldn't have any problems sneaking out all the way to the carriage."

Pulling out a tightly folded cloth from her rucksack, she whisks it free, revealing a long and silky cloak, "I'll make it through the safer corridors until I reach the Common Room."

You take a look at the beautiful Invisibility Cloak, "Zis is impressive. I 'ave never seen a cloak as fine as zis one."

While you're distracted, she quickly places a palm against your stomach and gently pushes you back against a wall. You are surprised by the unexpected move and her confident take charge attitude. Her cheeks become all rosy again and she gives you a shy look, but pulls off a rather cute and smug smile, "I see I can still catch you off-guard."

Raising a challenging eyebrow, your arms encircle her tightly for that extra bit of shared warmth and affection. The size of her smile doubles, making your heart soar. You don't waste the opportunity to tease, "Zat was a bit daring for you, Mademoiselle. Are you sure you are feeling alright?"

She huffs playfully and snuggles on your neck, inhaling slowly, "Mm-hmmm. Just don't forget we're trapped in a small space without proper ventilation, Fleur. I think those pheromones are making my brain fuzzy."

You rub your chin on the top of her head a few times and smile, "I apologize, but I 'ave no control over zem. Especially around you, it seems."

She nods and retreats a bit to look at you, a weak blush blossoming again on her fair skin, "We'll work something out... Anyway, this is the last place we'll have some privacy before parting ways. Ready to say 'good night'?"

A flashy grin is your only answer before reaching down for light and slow teasing pecks all over her face, until she chuckles and holds your chin softly, leaning forward to capture your lips with a newfound confidence. The kiss is sweet and also heated, with parts that spark up some memories from earlier and others that start a whole new set of sensations coursing through you.

It doesn't take too long for her to pull away, though, her breathing hard and fast against your skin. You can see she's a little dazed and shakes her head in an attempt to clear it up. Her lips keep on caressing a steady path from your jaw to the neck, and then you feel small nibbles on the fleshy long pilar down to the collarbone, instantly bringing to life countless goose bumps that you can't contain. She finally comes to a stop, running idle fingertips over your neck and wrapping her free arm around you, staying quietly like that for a long while, "You know, I think I can definitely get used to this."

You smile and hug her tightly for a while, humming in approval.

"If anyone had asked me yesterday what I'd be doing tonight, this wouldn't be even close to any of my guesses..." After a long sigh, she continues in a whisper, "I'm glad things turned out as they did."

Finally, you break apart and make it to the tapestry. In a last good-bye, you glide your hand over her jawline, "Good night, 'Ermione. Zank you for such a surprising day."

She gives your hand a little squeeze and places the cloak over her shoulders, "I enjoyed it, too, Fleur, and thanks again for the book." Lifting the corner of the tapestry, she throws a last look at you and her face lights up in a confident smile, "I'll see you tomorrow. Have a good night of sleep."

You can see that she means it this time.

---

TBC