Deal
Disclaimer: I own nothing. No profit made.
An: So I know the interaction between Hermione and Fleur in this chapter may seem rushed, but how would you act if your magical soul bond was being put in mortal peril and you hadn't even kissed her yet? Oh! I'm forgoing the accent, it's too much to keep track of so the only accented word I'll be using from this point on is 'Ermione' other than that you'll have to imagine Fleur's accent. I'm evil I know.
Her cheeks were tinted with pink, as was her nose as she followed the progression of students to the Quidditch Pitch. She had managed to tame her hair into two braids this morning, so it seemed luck was on her side. The little ball of fluff atop her beanie bobbled as she walked alongside Harry and Ginny, discussing what the first task might be. The time had finally come and the champions had been whisked away this morning after breakfast and now the whole school gossiped and whispered about just what the first challenge would be.
Guess as they might, Hermione knew it would probably be worse than they could imagine…and she had that feeling she always gets in her gut when something is about to go wrong. In the Great Hall this morning, as Dumbledore called Fleur up, Hermione felt her heart sink. What if Fleur gets hurt? What if the blonde witch…no, Hermione wasn't going to spend time thinking such awful things…But what if she never saw the French witch again?
Hermione pulls her bottom lip into her mouth and bites down, the sting keeping her in the reality and away from her dark thoughts. As they near the pitch, they can see a tent, the champions' tent, Hermione hesitates. "What is it, Hermione?" Harry frowns, coming to a stop as well.
"Come on, all the good seats will be taken." Ginny tugs at her sleeve.
Hermione's brow scrunches as she looks to her friends. "You two go grab us seats…I'll be right behind you." Ginny shrugs and continues on, but Harry waits, looking from the tent and back to Hermione.
Harry grins at her and nods, "Tell her good luck for me." He turns and runs before she can deny it. With a huff, she turns and gathers all her nervous energy and covers it with the courage her house is so famous for. Hermione skirts along the outside of the tent, knowing full well that she's probably not allowed inside.
She can see the shadows of three moving bodies inside; Fleur has to be one logically. But which one? She finds a slit and takes a deep breath to gather herself and with the breath comes the scent of a sweet perfume she'd recognize in a sea of other scents. "Fleur?" She says with an exhale, her words a mere whisper on the wind.
Hermione can feel the press of the other girl's body through the canvas as Fleur steps closer, the blonde's heat seeping into Hermione's body. " 'Ermione?" Surprise coats her words maybe even more than her accent and if Hermione wasn't terrified for the girl's life, she might have laughed. "What are you doing here?" She whispers through the canvas.
Hermione fidgets, her fingers teasing the opening in the tent as she tries to come up with a reasonable excuse…she has none. How does she tell this girl she barely knows that she's concerned about her wellbeing? How does she explain that she's afraid for Fleur? Finally she releases a ragged breath and decides to bite the bullet. "You're better than they say. I mean, you have to be, the Goblet picked you for a reason, right? They've all counted you out, but you'll be okay, won't you?" Her rambling is cut short by the slit being pulled apart by a very amused Fleur Delacour. Hermione flushes, her hands ringing themselves as she's looked upon by the French witch.
"Are you finished?" Her smile paints her words and makes Hermione flush deeper. She bobs her head, acutely aware of how much shorter she is and that she must look like a child compared to the battle ready French witch standing inches in front of her. "Bon, now I must say that your faith in my skills as a witch is insulting, of course I will out play these buffoons!" Hermione goes to protest when Fleur holds up a perfectly manicured hand to shush her. "I will forgive the unintended insult by you allowing me to personally educate you on the level of my skills…perhaps we can meet in the library sometime?"
Fleur's smile goes from Cheshire to demure in a matter of seconds as she stares down at a gaping Hermione. Had the French witch just asked her out? No, surely not, she just means to prove to Hermione that she is a capable witch and what better place to do that than in the library? Her shoulders square, "If you manage to not die…then we'll see." She fires back with a challenging raise of her eyebrow.
Fleur's smile returns to its overconfident, natural state, her arms crossing, her wand taps against her forearm as if in thought. "It is a deal, but…if I come in first place then I should deserve a prize, non?"
Hermione's eyes narrow as her lips purse, unsure if she likes the smugness that seems to follow the blonde around wherever she goes. "What sort of prize?"
"That is for me to know, and for you to find out, ma cherie." Fleur refuses to budge as Hermione stares up at her pensively, before finally nodding and with not a moment to lose. Fleur steps sideways a bit more to cover Hermione's presence from the gathering of adults waltzing in through the front of the tent. "Time for you to go 'Ermione. I will be collecting on our deal later." She smirks and pivots to join the group behind her.
Hermione reaches out to grab the girl's arm, halting her escape. The impulsiveness of her action fades as Hermione stares into Fleur's wondering eyes. There's a flash but both girls ignore it. Fleur waits. Hermione bites then licks her lips before squaring her shoulders. "Don't die." She whispers so low she's afraid that Fleur hadn't heard at all.
But then Fleur's eyes are a lot softer than they were moments ago, more silver than blue and staring at Hermione as though she's seen all the wonders of the universe and can't find the words to explain its magnificence. "We made a deal, 'Ermione…I never back out on a deal." She murmurs as another flash illuminates their bodies. Fleur's hand covers Hermione's, squeezes then gently pries her arm free, she brings the small hand up to her lips and kisses the knuckles once again causing the Gryffindor's cheeks to flare red. Fleur drops her hand and Dumbledore calls for her; together they both back away and turn.
The blonde witch joins the questioning, but silent, group of competitors and Headmasters, feeling calmer than she had felt since she found out that she'd be facing a dragon. She was ready. She could do this…she had a promise to keep.
Hermione stumbled her way through the crowd, through the stands until she was sitting on Harry's left, Ginny on his right. The cannons would sound any minute now and the dread sat heavy in her stomach. The cannons blow and Hermione stands to watch the first champion enter the stadium, dragons, they're facing dragons. Hermione can see the massive beast guarding the eggs. Fleur had better not die, if she did, Hermione would kill her.
Hushed laughter rang through the stacks of the library as two girls, one blonde and one brunette, tried in vain to get their giggling under control less they wanted to be met with the strong disapproving glare of Madame Pince and be thrown out for the day. Of course just the thought alone sobered Hermione some, she couldn't fathom being band from the library, but one look in Fleur's direction had her erupting in another fit of quiet giggling.
She would like to go on recorded of saying that she had little control over what exactly came out of her mouth at the moment, like usual, when around the French witch Hermione had little to no control of how her body behaved. She highly suspected that Fleur knew this and used it to her advantage…though she had no proof. Hermione tried covering her face with her beloved and warn copy of 'Hogwarts: A History.', but that only resulted in Fleur guffawing louder which in turn set Hermione off once more.
Peering over the top of the book, as she still sat back against the corner where wall meant bookshelf, Fleur copying her pose on the shelf in front of her, she tried to glare at the girl that had started this whole mess.
/
This had all started when she arrived at the predetermined spot within the library to meet Fleur. The French witch had indeed survived her run in with the Hungarian Horntail Dragon and successfully captured the golden egg without dying, so Hermione held up her end of the bargain and set out to meet the witch like promised. Yes, Hermione had been quite impressed with the skill and ease at which Fleur dealt with her dragon, and she wasn't the only one.
The Daily Profit and done a whole spread on Fleur's quick and effect strategy of putting the beast asleep, with a still unknown spell to the Wizarding Community that wasn't of Veela Heritage, and gathering the egg without harming herself, the real Dragon eggs or the Dragon itself. Viktor and Cedric hadn't been as successful, Viktor had escaped without harm but in doing so he had caused the Dragon to destroy most of its own eggs in the process, Hermione had been most displeased about this. Cedric on the other hand had not caused any harm to the Dragon or its unborn brood, but had spent a few days in the infirmary repairing a few broken bones and growing some new skin. As such, Fleur had come in first, as she so smugly thought she would, Cedric was second and Viktor last for his carelessness.
What really captured everyone's interest though, was the rest of the article this Skeeter woman wrote. With as much detail as she could afford, Skeeter had divulged Fleur Veela nature and just who the Delacour clan was within both Veela and Wizarding communities. Both of Fleur's parents worked for the French Ministry, Mr. Delacour as the Head of Magical Creature Department, because according to Fleur in France they did not regulate magical creatures in France but rather advocated and protected them, it all fascinated Hermione at the beginning of their meeting. Skeeter then went on discussing Mrs. Delacour in less detail; evidently the woman was the equivalent of an Unspeakable or Arour for the French Ministry.
The differences between the two ministry astounded Hermione, but this wasn't what caught everyone's attention either.
The rest of the three page article encompassed speculation on what was really going on between the French Veela witch and the newest Heir to the House of Black. Pictures of the two girls in the champions' tent had been printed in the article as well. Hermione suspected that most of the school, and the Wizarding world, were waiting and debating what would happen next.
Fleur had arrived to the meeting in great amusement as she bowed to Hermione and offered her a small box of chocolates from Honeydukes as an engagement present. Hermione had scoffed and hit the girl over and over with the Daily Profit before finally accepting a piece of the 'peace offering' chocolate, as Fleur put it. She should have known not to trust Honeydukes chocolate.
It didn't take long for Hermione to figure out that the candies were in fact Honeydukes famed 'Chuckling Chocolates' which did exact what you might think. With every piece that she and Fleur consumed as they talked and debated over school work, rumors and advanced magic's, their moods shifted higher and higher, till they could hardly look at one another without dissolving into hysterics.
/
So yes, this was all indeed the French witch's fault, but ironically Hermione could not fault her in the slightest. She had been in a right foul mood over the newest gossip of her supposed love life and the letters she had received from not only Sirius, but also Narcissa and Andromeda. Snape had even pulled Hermione away from breakfast to talk with her amongst the company of Dumbledore and McGonagall. She had set them all straight of course, but that didn't stop her from worrying over the small part that Skeeter had right…there was definitely something going on between Fleur and Hermione, only Hermione didn't know what it was.
Therefore Hermione laughed with Fleur in the small corner they found in the library and when they weren't laughing they talked and debated about actual intellectual subjects that she could never really discuss with Harry or Ginny without their eyes glazing over. And as the chocolates charm began to wane, Fleur straighten up in front of her, blue eyes still full with mirth but clear and precise as she too peered at Hermione. "So I came in first." Fleur stated, a giggle falling from her lips like a hiccup.
Hermione's eyes narrowed, but her lips spread with a wide, teeth showing smile. "Ah yes, the prize. So, what is it then? Don't keep me in suspense."
Fleur furrowed her brows and tapped her chin with an elegant finger, exaggerating thinking and causing a small set back in their sobriety. Finally the girl shrugged and smiled quietly. "Take me on one of these infamous adventures you and your friends have every year. It's all anyone ever talks about, well that and Harry's scar or your heritage." Fleur scoffs and rolls her eyes at the last bit, and Hermione thinks that she must understand what it's like to have people talk about your heritage as if it's the only thing interesting about you.
Hermione chuckles softly, wryly. "You do realize that these adventures were only had because of Voldemort trying to kill off Harry, right?" She probed.
"So isn't about time you have an adventure just for the sake of an adventure? Without life or death hanging in the balance? Getting caught being the only true danger? Doesn't that sound fun?" Fleur pushed with a devious smirk.
Hermione stared, flabbergasted. "You want me to willing put myself at risk of getting into trouble…just for the sake of getting in trouble? You do realize just who you're talking to, right?"
Again, Fleur shrugged, her smirk never faltering. "What do you have to loose, 'Ermione?" Her question was met with silence, even as the French witch stood and slowly backed away, mischievously beckoning for Hermione to follow her.
"We could get expelled!" Hermione protested even as she hurried to follow Fleur's retreating form.