Hermione left the ICW with a feeling of confidence and success. Amaia had promised to stay in touch and update her after she went back to her own Ministry. The New Zealand magical government was much smaller and didn't have a legislative structure like the Wizengamot, which would help to streamline things, and Amaia had been confident she'd be able to get approval to move forward with the plan.

Hermione beamed to herself, skipping down the stairs as she left the building. One thing down off her list, only a million more to go.

Her next stop was Beauxbatons, the French Academy of magic, located in the south of France in the Pyrénées mountains. It was nearly 500 miles away, almost directly south. Examining Luna's map, Hermione carefully plotted out her course across the French countryside through the ley lines, before focusing on her core, harmonizing with her magic, and stepping into the stream.

As Hermione traveled further south, the ley lines felt different to her, somehow. There was a different energy about them, something more alive. Hermione wondered if Beauxbatons students maybe used the ley lines, so they were more used to feeling the magical energy of people within them. It was almost pleasant, somehow warm and fond, and Hermione had to remind herself of the dangers if she got distracted even slightly while 'popping' around. If she accidentally fell out of the ley line on the wrong side and ended up in the Fae realm… well, she might never escape.

It took nearly an hour, hopping across the country with discreet stops to rest and puke, but Hermione soon found herself two nodes away from Beauxbatons. Excitement thrummed through her, and she focused on taking a ley line that would put her just outside the school. She didn't want them to think her an intruder or an attacker of some kind. Taking a deep breath, Hermione stepped into the ley line once more, and a short jump later, she was abruptly on the ground outside of Beauxbatons, eyes wide.

Fleur hadn't been exaggerating.

Beauxbatons was beautiful.

A palace stood in the center of enormous, lush gardens, carved out from the mountainous landscape as if by magic. The palace itself looked like a cross between a medieval castle and a stately manor home, made of shining white stone. It was covered with tall windows – grand, arched ones and multi-pane ones - and it had slate gray roofs with as many towers as possible added on. Hermione counted four floors (an entirely reasonable number of floors, unlike Hogwarts), save for the towers on the ends, and she wondered where the students lived. Fleur had mentioned the central fountain in the middle of the school's park; did the school then form a giant square, with a courtyard and fountain in the middle?

The gardens around the school stretched out in every direction to fill the magic-made valley in the mountain. Flowers of different sorts adorned the bushes, multicolored and gorgeous. Topiaries lined some of the walkways, expertly trimmed into striking shapes – a unicorn, a griffin, a dragon, a phoenix. The gardens seemed to be solely dedicated to the aesthetic and the beautiful, with nary a concern towards growing magically-functional plants for Herbology or Potions. There were only beautiful plants and flowers, surrounding the striking palace in the center, and the effect was stunning.

Hermione approached the castle on foot, reverently, slowly walking up to the gardens. There was no fence to prevent her from entering.

As soon as Hermione stepped onto the garden path, the school's defenses struck; vines shot out from the rose bushes next to her, curling rapidly around her ankles and stopping her where she stood. Hermione gasped as larger vines studded with thorns emerged and loomed threateningly, and she stood very still – presumably, this was their intruder warning system, and someone would come along soon to see who was trespassing. Hermione couldn't help but be impressed by it. Magically enchanted flowers and gardens were a sight prettier and more creative than the giant iron fence Hogwarts had surrounding its grounds.

Soon, two figures emerged from the palace in the distance: a very large one, and a very blonde one. As they got closer, a wide smile spread across Hermione's face.

"Fleur!"

Fleur was in her Beauxbatons uniform, a beautiful blue short robe and capelet, but she was still utterly recognizable from her blonde hair and bright eyes shining out from under a matching hat. She was stunning, as always, and Fleur was laughing, her face alight as she started running toward Hermione. Without thinking about it, Hermione instinctively pushed the vines away with her magic, freeing herself to run to Fleur as well with a joyous smile.

Before Hermione realized they'd met, Fleur had swept her up in her arms and was spinning her around, laughing. Hermione shrieked in surprise, grabbing at Fleur in alarm, but Fleur only laughed and set her down, beaming at her.

"Hermione!" Fleur said, her voice warm. "Ah, tu as laissé un vide derrière toi! Sans toi, ce n'était pas pareil…"

Hermione faltered and blushed.

"It's good to see you again," she breathed. "Though, my French hasn't improved much, mind. Umm… 'sans toi ce n'était pas pareil' is 'it wasn't the same without you', I think, and 'derrière' is 'behind', I think, but I don't know 'laissé' or 'vide'…"

Fleur laughed.

"You left a void behind you," she declared, holding Hermione close again. "It was not the same without you. I desperately wanted to see you again."

"Me too," Hermione admitted. "Ah… tu me manques. Err—is it past tense, now? So tu m'as manqué…"

Fleur's eyes sparkled.

"Your accent is terrible," she said, leaning forward and kissing the tip of Hermione's nose. "But you are cute for trying."

"I've been in France for two hours, not two weeks!" Hermione objected, face flaming.

Fleur laughed.

"It is okay; you are in France now. You will pick it back up again soon," she declared. She stepped back and took Hermione's hand. They turned to face the large woman, who was looking down at them appraisingly, and Hermione's eyes grew large.

The woman in front of her was the tallest person Hermione had ever seen, and that included Hagrid. She stood maybe ten feet tall, and she wore very voluminous robes, concealing her figure and making her look even bigger. Her hair was dark and cut short, and she had a long nose she looked down the entire length of to see Hermione with dark eyes.

"Madame Maxime, je vous présente Hermione Granger, mon amie. Hermione," Fleur said, turning now to Hermione, "this is Madame Maxime, the Headmistress of Beauxbâtons."

Hermione curtsied very deeply. "C'est un plaisir de faire votre connaissance," she said, minding her accent. The large woman merely looked mildly amused.

"Enchantée," she said. She looked Hermione over frankly, before speaking English with a heavy accent. "So. You are zhe special one 'oo 'as our Fleur so flustered."

"I suppose so?" Hermione said, flushing. She looked over at Fleur, who was looking at her fondly. "I wouldn't say I'm special…"

"Au contraire," Madame Maxime said mildly, "you 'ave escaped our guardian vines wizhout a second s'ought."

Hermione blinked. She'd been so excited to see Fleur, she'd pushed her earth magic at the vines instinctively. Now, the vines still lay on the path where they had coiled around her ankles, but they had bloomed into a tangled bouquet of multicolored roses. Hermione faltered.

"Well," she said, awkward. "Maybe a little special."

Fleur laughed delightedly, and Madame Maxime nodded.

"Fleur 'as said you might transfer academies, if your French improves. You are welcome to take a tour of Beauxbâtons under supervision of Fleur," she said. "Your excursion is not for a few 'ours."

Hermione's eyes grew wide.

"I get to explore?" she said, breathless. She looked to Fleur. "I thought you said Beauxbatons was a secret."

"It is." Fleur's eyes sparkled. "But, as we have said, you are special."

"It iz not as if we could we woo you away from Dumblydore wizhout you seeing our beautiful school," Madame Maxime added. She smirked, the expression almost intimidating just for the size of it across the woman's wide lips. "Maybe we cannot regardless, but we need zhe shance to try."

Hermione was genuinely excited to get to explore Beauxbatons. She was curious to see the differences between the schools, what the professors here were like, what the students were like, how big the library was. She knew this was a rare opportunity, seeing another wizarding school like this (when they were so notoriously secretive), and she intended to savor it.

That being said…

Seeing Fleur again took precedence.

"You have grown up!" Fleur exclaimed, tugging Hermione by the hand through a grand archway, down a walkway. There was light and the sound of water ahead, and Hermione hoped they were going to the fountain. "Just look at you!"

"I haven't," Hermione protested. "I've long since stopped growing."

"Lies." Fleur scoffed. "You have filled out your figure, Hermione. And to say nothing of your hair!"

She paused in the middle of the walkway, reaching up with her free hand to cup Hermione's face and gently tousle her curls, and Hermione's face flamed. Fleur's blue eyes sparkled.

"I do not know what you have done to it, but I love it," she declared. "You are beautiful, Hermione."

The fact that Fleur, one of the most beautiful people Hermione had ever seen, was calling her beautiful… Hermione could feel her cheeks heat up, but Fleur wouldn't let her look away.

"You don't scrub up too badly yourself," she managed to get out, and Fleur laughed delightedly, her peals of laughter ringing in the walkway like bells.

"Oh, I have missed you!" she said, skipping down the walkway once more, Hermione's hand still firmly in her own. "Come! I must show you everything! Beauxbâtons is the most beautiful school in the world. And I have friends, now – well, some. Acquaintances, at least? They permit me to study with them. You should meet them, I feel. But first, the Flamel Fountain – it is right up here. Can you hear it?"

Fleur's enthusiasm and excitement was charming, and Hermione couldn't stop smiling as Fleur led her along. Fleur's joy just radiated out of her, and it made Hermione's heart warm, to know she was so happy to see her.

Fleur seemed entirely oblivious of the other students walking around in the walkways and the courtyard, or at the least, she was ignoring them. Clusters of students stared as they passed, other girls clad in capelets and robes like Fleur's watching in astonishment. Hermione remembered Fleur's anguished tales of how the girls generally treated her with suspicion, loathing, and envy, and how Fleur had to constantly put on an act, pretending to be above all the petty drama. Now, though, Fleur was laughing and skipping down the hall, blonde hair dancing in the air behind her, smiling openly with her eyes alight, and Hermione wondered if they'd ever seen Fleur look so free.

There were boys, too, though their uniform was very different – they wore navy blue slacks and a silken blue vest that matched the girls' robes. They wore a white collared shirt underneath the vest, and many of them had patterned blue ascots about their necks. Some of them had on long suit coat jackets, the same pale blue of their ties, with the crest of Beauxbatons embroidered on the chest. The boys, much more than the girls, stared after Fleur, not bothering to hide their gaze in darting looks or glances. Many of their faces slackened, apparently just drinking in the sight of Fleur, and the look in their eyes made Hermione feel uneasy and uncomfortable. Did Fleur have to deal with this all the time?

Fleur tugged Hermione through an opening into a stunning courtyard. There were trees and pavilions scattered around, with chairs and benches throughout the area. In the center was a magnificent fountain, a multi-tiered masterpiece. Atop the fountain stood what looked like an angel, reaching for the heavens, but there was a wand in its hand. Water spilled out from under the angel to the next tier, and then wider from the bottom tier still. The other tiers were decorated with statuettes of unicorns and pegasi, and the water glittered in the sunlight as it fell. It was almost too pretty, the water sparkling a little too much to be normal, but it was said to be enchanted, Hermione figured. Maybe enchanted water was prettier, the magic helping it catch more light.

Fleur tugged her over to a bench near the fountain. They both sat down on it, and Fleur took Hermione's hands, smiling at her.

"I know you would like to see the school, but Hermione, it is so wonderful to see you again, I want to just sit and talk for a while," Fleur told her. "I hope you will forgive me this?"

"Of course, Fleur," Hermione said, smiling. "Catching up in person is always better than letters, isn't it?"

"Not always, perhaps," Fleur said, making a face. "Letters to my mère maman do not provoke immediate nosy questions, at least. And they do not speak back."

Hermione laughed, and Fleur grinned.

"You see the fountain?" she said, gesturing grandly. "Made by the Flamel. Or at least, by their alchemist gold. It is lovely, is it not?"

"It is," Hermione said. "I didn't know wizards had angelic iconography, though."

"Angel?" Fleur paused. "What angel?"

"On top of the fountain," Hermione said, pointing.

"Oh!" Fleur said. "L'apogée de la magie. 'The apex of magic', I think, in English?" She smiled wryly. "The figure represents the height of magic, the constant strive for more. The wings are – euhh…" she trailed off, muttering rapidly in French to herself. "Comment dit-on 'métaphoré'? Our 'au sens figuré'? Zut alors, est-ce que je pourrais éviter de perdre mes mots, pour une fois?"

"Figurative?" Hermione offered, guessing. "Metaphorical?"

"Yes!" Fleur looked relieved. "The wings, they are symbolic. They are not actual wings. Just… representative. Of the journey for more."

"They're not supposed to be literal wings," Hermione said, nodding. "I understand."

Fleur looked sideways at Hermione.

"You are not so different from the figure," she said slyly. "Beautiful, and constantly striving for perfection. Though you do not need wings to fly, do you?"

Hermione flushed. "Fleur!"

Fleur laughed. "I am not wrong, am I?"

"I mean, no…" Hermione laughed, her cheeks red.

"Do you blush at me calling you beautiful?" Fleur asked, observing her. "Or is it the mention of your strange flying that has you turning red?"

"The beautiful bit," Hermione admitted. "It feels… I don't know. Inappropriate, somehow. You're beautiful, Fleur. I'm just… me."

Fleur looked at her, eyes soft.

"Beauty is a state of mind," she told Hermione. "It… is an aesthetic appreciation, a visual veneration." She nodded, satisfied with her words. "Do not compare my Veela allure with yourself. The allure, it is more part of the sublime, I think – a magical manipulation of the senses – than a truth that is beautiful."

"The… sublime?" Hermione faltered. She'd heard the word before, but she'd thought it just meant 'outstanding' or 'incredible'.

"The sublime is… more," Fleur said, trying to explain. "The sublime is elevated. Greater than normal. It inspires awe, veneration, fear. Like… when you look out over a cliff at the ocean, it is stunning, but also terrifying. That is the sublime." She made a face. "It has been some time since I have read Longinus."

"Wait – do you study Longinus at Beauxbatons?" Hermine said, astonished. She only vaguely recognized the name. "Do you have magical philosophy classes? Do you really?"

Fleur laughed.

"How else are we to explore the pinnacle of magic, if we do not expand how we think?" she queried, eyes sparkling. "If we have not the tools to reach the summit, how will we ever climb more?"

"That's brilliant," Hermione said enviously. "I wish we had that class at Hogwarts. And I wasn't," she added. "I wasn't talking about the Veela allure. Just… you."

"Ah, yes. Just 'Fleur'." Fleur's eyes went molten. "And you find 'just Fleur' beautiful."

"You know I do," Hermione said, resisting the urge to squirm underneath her gaze.

"Then why," said Fleur, her hand coming up to cup Hermione's face gently, "do you find it hard to believe I find the one I have soft feelings for to be beautiful too?"

Hermione's breath caught as Fleur leaned closer, breathless in anticipation.

"Everyone is watching," Hermione warned her, heart pounding in her chest. "Everyone is about to see you kiss a girl."

"Let them watch," Fleur murmured, his breath ghosting over Hermione's lips. She smiled slyly, eyes sparkling. "Let them see what it looks like when I try to seduce a person."

"Seduce—?"

But Hermione's objection was lost a moment later in Fleur's lips, in her deep kisses, and Hermione rather forgot to think at all for quite some time.