Authors note: Can anyone spot the movie i ripped the lake encounter from? Shameless. Bonus points if you can. A chapter explaining how we ended up here will come before this one, but i figured some sauce was needed.

The morning air in the Entrance Hall was crisp and cool, the sunlight streaming in through the tall windows casting golden patches on the stone floor. Harry, Ron, and Hermione had just finished breakfast and were making their way out, Ron still chewing the last bit of toast he'd nicked from the Gryffindor table.

"Did you see that new guy, Ivan, today?" Ron asked, his voice muffled through his mouthful. "Reckon he's even thinking about practicing for the second task? He looked dead on his feet after being picked."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "He's probably working just as hard as everyone else, Ron. Honestly, just because—"

Before she could finish, a voice cut through the hall, drawing all three of them to a halt.

"'Arry!"

Harry turned, already recognizing the accent. Fleur Delacour stood at the foot of the staircase, her silver-blonde hair gleaming in the morning light. Her robes were light blue as usual, swishing elegantly around her as she crossed the hall with an easy grace. Several students nearby were openly staring at her as she approached, but Fleur seemed utterly unaware of the attention.

"Uh, Fleur," Harry said awkwardly as she stopped in front of him, offering a dazzling smile. "Hi."

"I was wondering," Fleur said, her voice lilting, "could we talk? In private?" Her blue eyes flicked momentarily to Ron and Hermione before returning to Harry, and her smile widened.

"Er... sure," Harry said, feeling slightly thrown. He glanced at Ron and Hermione. "I'll catch up with you in a minute?"

Ron raised his eyebrows, clearly impressed that Fleur Delacour was taking Harry aside. "Yeah, alright," he said, giving Harry a knowing look before heading off. Hermione, however, lingered for a moment, frowning as she glanced between Harry and Fleur. Then, without a word, she turned on her heel and followed Ron.

As Harry watched them go, he couldn't help but feel slightly uneasy, but Fleur's voice brought him back.

"Shall we?" she said, nodding toward a quieter corner near the great arched doorway.

Harry followed her, wondering what this could possibly be about. When they reached the far side of the hall, Fleur turned to him, her smile softening as she leaned slightly closer.

"I wanted to speak with you, 'Arry," she began, her voice low and almost musical. "About ze Tournament."

"Oh," Harry said, nodding quickly. "Right, of course."

But then Fleur didn't seem to continue. Instead, she gave him an appraising look, her gaze lingering on his face as if waiting for him to say something more. Harry shifted uncomfortably, glancing down at his shoes.

"So… what is it you wanted to talk about?" he asked after a moment, trying to ignore the odd flutter in his stomach.

Fleur let out a light laugh, the sound delicate, and her fingers lightly brushed her hair back from her face. "Oh, nothing important," she said, shrugging one shoulder. "I simply wanted to, how do you say, check in with you? See how you are managing."

Harry blinked. "Managing? With the Tournament?"

"Yes," Fleur replied smoothly, though her smile seemed almost too perfect. "Ze second task is approaching, and it is, of course, important zat we all prepare. I know you are young, but you 'ave been through so much already, no?"

Harry gave a quick, awkward nod. "Yeah... I guess so. It's been tough, but I think I'm figuring it out."

Fleur's eyes seemed to linger on him longer than necessary, and Harry suddenly felt very aware of how close they were standing. She tilted her head slightly, her smile almost teasing. "You are quite brave, 'Arry. Not many your age would be able to handle zis."

Harry wasn't sure what to say. He felt a heat creeping up the back of his neck and fidgeted with the hem of his robes. "Thanks," he muttered, not quite meeting her gaze. "But, I mean, I don't really have a choice."

Fleur's smile didn't waver, but there was something in her eyes now—something that made Harry's pulse quicken. "Still," she said softly, "it is impressive. You 'ave a certain... strength about you."

The words felt strange, and for a moment, Harry wasn't sure if this was a genuine conversation or something else entirely. Fleur wasn't asking him for advice or discussing strategy—she was just standing there, smiling at him, her tone oddly flirty. He shifted again, uncomfortable but unable to figure out why.

Before he could respond, Fleur's eyes flicked past him, as if she had spotted someone coming. Her smile grew a little sharper. "But I must go," she said quickly, her voice airy again. "We will talk again soon, yes?"

She slipped him a note, and told him to open it after classes. And with that, she turned on the spot and walked off, her silvery hair whipping behind her.

"Er, sure," Harry said, still confused, as Fleur gave him a quick nod and glided off, leaving him standing alone by the doorway.

He stood there for a moment, replaying the conversation in his mind, trying to figure out what exactly had just happened. Harry frowned, shaking his head. He had no idea what to make of it, but he felt a growing sense of relief that it was over. He slipped the note into his pocket.

Harry turned and hurried back toward the staircase, heading in the direction Ron and Hermione had gone. As he turned the corner, the voices of Ron and Hermione echoed in the deserted hallway

"Ugh. She's only talking to him because he is the only one with a clue for the next task."

"Just don't ruin it for him please."

"Ron. I wouldn't."

"Yeah, right."

"Just look at how she flicked her hair at him. What a total slag."

When they heard Harry approaching, they quickly changed the subject. Feeling slightly embarrassed, Harry tried to act casual as he rejoined them.

"What was all that about?" Ron asked, grinning at Harry as soon as he appeared. "You looked like you were having quite the chat."

"Yeah, well... it was weird," Harry muttered. "She didn't even want anything really. Just asked how I was doing with the Tournament. She was acting... I don't know. Odd."

Ron let out a low whistle. "Maybe she fancies you, mate. Could you imagine? Fleur Delacour and Harry Potter! The Daily Prophet would have a field day."

Harry snorted, shoving Ron lightly. "Shut up, Ron."

Ron laughed, but Hermione, walking ahead of them, said nothing. Harry glanced at her, noting the stiffness in her posture. "What's wrong, Hermione?"

"Nothing," Hermione replied tersely, not turning around.

Ron raised his eyebrows at Harry, clearly noticing the shift in her mood too. "You sure? You seem... off."

"I said I'm fine," Hermione snapped, quickening her pace.

Harry frowned. "Are you sure? Because—"

"Honestly, Harry," Hermione interrupted, her tone clipped, "just leave it, okay?"

Harry and Ron exchanged another look, both at a loss for what had triggered Hermione's sudden bad mood. She didn't normally get like this without reason, but she was clearly not interested in explaining. They reached the door to Charms class, and Hermione stormed inside without waiting for them.

Ron blinked after her, bewildered. "What was that about?"

Harry shrugged helplessly, though he couldn't shake the strange feeling that had settled over the morning, first with Fleur, now with Hermione. "I don't know. Maybe it's just one of those days."

"Yeah, maybe," Ron said, though his voice was doubtful.

They entered the classroom, and Harry found himself glancing at Hermione, who had taken her seat at the front, her back still rigid. He sighed, sliding into the seat beside Ron.

Authors note: I really couldn't be f'd to write the passage here, so its not there yet. Sorry, lol.

The Hogwarts grounds were eerily quiet under the silver light of the December moon. The frosty grass crunched under Harry's feet as he made his way toward the Great Lake, shivering under his cloak.

Now, as the castle loomed behind him, silent and shadowy.

"You came," she said quietly, her French accent curling around the words.

"Yeah," Harry replied, feeling the cold air bite at his cheeks. "It's freezing though."

Fleur gave a small laugh, the sound light and warm in the crisp air. "Oui, it is cold, but ze cold can be... exhilarating."

Harry wasn't so sure. The wind cut through him as he stuffed his hands deeper into his pockets, watching as Fleur stepped closer to the lake, her feet brushing the frost-covered ground. She lifted her wand and muttered something under her breath, and instantly, the air around him warmed, like a soft bubble of heat.

"Zar," she said, turning to Harry. "You weel not freeze now."

Harry felt a rush of warmth wrap around him, the chill lifting instantly. He stood maybe 10 yards from her, and stopped, waiting.

Fleur's smile deepened, and without speaking, she reached up and unclasped her cloak, letting it fall to the ground. Underneath, she wore nothing but a thin, sleeveless dress, and Harry's stomach lurched at the sight.

"But—"

Before Harry could neither start nor finish his sentence, she let one of her shoulder straps slide off her shoulder, and then the other. The dress fell silently to the ground, she was completely unfazed by neither the cold nor by his presence. Her naked form shone in the soft moonlight.

Harry's face turned red, and he quickly looked away. He quickly found a bush to hide behind as he fumbled with his own cloak. He could hear the soft sound of feet moving on grass and then, a sudden splash.

"Oh la la! Eet's freezing!" Fleur exclaimed, her voice full of laughter.

Harry peered out from behind the bush, his eyes widening as he saw Fleur swimming in the dark water, her laughter echoing across the lake. She seemed completely at ease, humming softly to herself as she floated in the icy water.

Shivering slightly despite the charm, Harry hurriedly finished undressing and waded into the lake. The moment the water touched his skin, he winced at the sharp cold, Fleur's charm kept him warm, but the sensation of chill was still enough to notice. It took a moment to adjust, and Fleur laughed at his reaction.

"Zis is great," she said, her voice light and carefree as she drifted through the water.

Harry waded in deeper, glancing around nervously. "What if Filch catches us? Or, I don't know, someone sees us from the castle?"

Fleur waved her hand dismissively, splashing a bit of water in his direction. "Do not worry, 'Arry. No one will catch us. And if zey do, I can always... charm them." She winked playfully.

Harry, trying to ignore the warm flutter in his stomach, moved closer to where Fleur was floating. She suddenly stopped, holding her hand to her eye with a small frown.

"Oh, zut alors," she muttered, her voice softer. "I 'ave something in my eye."

He swam closer to her, capitalizing on the chance to get closer. "Are you alright?" he asked.

Fleur tilted her head up toward him, her face only inches from his. "Can you see it?" she asked, her voice low and teasing.

Harry's throat went dry as he leaned in, trying to focus on her eyes, but it was difficult to ignore the feeling of her warm breath against his skin. "I... I don't see anything," he stammered.

"Get closer," Fleur whispered.

Harry leaned in, looking deeper into her eyes—eyes that seemed to pull him in, making everything else around them fade away. Then, without warning, Fleur reached out and gently grabbed his face, pressing her lips to his in a quick, playful kiss. Harry's eyes widened in shock, but before he could react, she pulled away, laughing as she splashed backward through the water.

"That is ze first time I 'ave kissed someone younger than me," Fleur teased, her laughter echoing softly. "I am usually surrounded by... older men."

Harry blinked, his heart still pounding in his chest. He wasn't sure how to respond, so he simply floated there, watching as Fleur swam lazily through the water, her movements graceful and relaxed. She seemed completely at ease, but Harry, much more self-conscious, kept glancing back at the castle, half-expecting someone to come down and catch them at any moment.

After a while, Fleur swam back toward the shallows, wading gracefully out of the water. Harry watched, embarrassed, as she glanced back at him and caught his gaze lingering too long. He quickly looked away, his face burning.

"Do not be shy, 'Arry," she said with a playful smile. "It is nothing you 'ave not seen before."

Little do you know, Harry thought to himself, it definitely was not something he had seen before. Harry awkwardly followed her to the shore, doing his best to cover himself as he waded out of the water. Fleur giggled at his attempts, her laughter warm and teasing. "Oh, 'Arry, and you a champion!"

Still smiling, Fleur reached for her cloak, wrapping it around her as she stood shivering slightly in the cold night air. Her wet hair clung to her shoulders, and as she struggled to dry herself, Harry hesitated for a moment, then stepped forward.

"Let me warm you up," he said quietly, reaching out to pull her closer.

Fleur looked at him, her expression softening for a moment as she allowed herself to be drawn into his embrace. Harry wrapped his arms around her, rubbing her back briskly, the thin fabric of her cloak the only thing between them. But as his hands slowed, becoming more gentle, more deliberate, Fleur stiffened slightly.

"Do not spoil it," she whispered, her voice kind but firm. She looked up at him with a knowing smile, her eyes filled with understanding. "I want zis to be a perfect night."

Harry, realizing what she meant, nodded, his heart sinking slightly as he pulled back, loosening his grip. Fleur smiled, her expression wistful as she looked out over the lake.

"I 'ave not had a real night like zis since I was young," she said quietly, her voice soft and almost sad. "Sometimes, I wish I could go back to zat time."

Harry watched her, unsure of what to say. In that moment, Fleur seemed younger somehow, her usual confidence and poise replaced with something more fragile, more vulnerable.

Without thinking, Harry stepped back, allowing her space as she buttoned her cloak. Fleur glanced at him, then, with a sudden impulse, leaned forward and kissed him gently on the lips. The kiss was soft, sweet, and brief, lasting only a few seconds, but it felt innocent, like a fleeting moment from a simpler time. When she pulled away, she smiled at him, radiant and wistful at the same time.

"That was nice," Fleur said softly, her eyes twinkling. "I do not get keessed much, you know."

Harry, still a bit dazed from the kiss, nodded awkwardly. Fleur smiled again, her face brightening as she stood, pulling her cloak tighter around her.

"So, 'Arry," she said, her voice returning to its light, teasing tone. "What do we do now?"

Harry looked at her, reluctant to leave the peacefulness of the night, but knowing that they couldn't stay here forever. With a deep breath, he shrugged. "I guess... we head back."

Fleur laughed softly, nodding as she began walking toward the path back to the Beauxbatons carriage. Harry followed, his mind still buzzing from the night, unsure of what to make of it all. As they reached the carriage, Fleur paused and turned to him, her eyes soft and grateful.

"Bonne nuit, 'Arry," she whispered, leaning in to kiss him once more on the cheek before slipping inside the carriage.

Harry stood there for a moment, staring after her, his heart still racing. Then, with a final glance back at the moonlit lake, he mounted his broom and flew back up to the Gryffindor common room, slipping in through the window as the embers of the fire glowed faintly in the darkened room.

As Harry climbed into bed, his mind whirled with the memory of Fleur's kiss, the warmth of her embrace, and the strange mix of emotions that left him feeling both enchanted and confused. Something had changed tonight, something he couldn't quite name. And as he lay there, staring at the ceiling, he realized he would never forget it.