Harry Potter was a unique boy in many aspects. For one, he had rather messy, ruffled hair that did not seem to want to lay flat for any period of time. He grew up in an odd and rather sad of conditions, living with an aunt and uncle that did not care for him and a cousin that bullied him. But what perhaps made him special the most was the fact that something he did while just a year old made him famous across the entire Wizarding World, something he barely remembered. As a baby, he somehow managed to survive a Killing Curse cast by one of the most feared wizards of all time, Lord Voldemort, and forced him into a state of living that seemed just barely over the edge from death. For this, he had earned a reputation throughout the Wizarding World as the Boy Who Lived.

Despite this, he lived through the first fourteen years of his life not knowing any of this. He lived in a state of near abuse, forced to live under a cupboard for close to fourteen years and be the punching bag of his abnormally fat cousin, Dudley Dursley, along with his parents, known to Harry as Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon, both unpleasant in sight and in personality. Growing up, he was never a popular kid in school, nor was he the most athletic, the smartest, or any of that. He was just Harry.

But that changed on his fourteenth birthday, when he was introduced to a man named Rubeus Hagrid. Hagrid brought Harry into the Wizarding World, enlightening him of an entire community of wizards and witches that lived not just in Great Britain, but all throughout the world, from the United States to Australia to the far northern reaches of Siberia. From there on, Harry Potter lived his life knowing that he was a wizard and attended Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, all while having to return to the Dursleys for the summer months of July and August. Despite this, it was a vast shift in Harry's life from the monotonous and sometimes depressing life he had prior to learning of this Wizarding World. Having completed three years of schooling at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, he began his fourth well acquainted already with the Wizarding World, and ready to dive into another year at Hogwarts.

Fleur Delacour was a unique girl in many aspects. For one, she was a quarter-Veela, which attracted the attention of nearly every guy she encountered. While she found this to be rather amusing when she first experienced this, she had grown to become rather tired of it, as it was difficult to find gentlemen who would not stare at her, glassy-eyed and tongue-tied. She also attended the Beauxbatons Academy of Magic, one of the premier schools of magic in the Wizarding World located in France. Lastly, she was well accustomed to speaking both English and French, having visited Great Britain many times on family business.

Her bilingual skills along with her magical education as a seventh year at Beauxbatons made her an obvious choice as a part of the group of students that was to travel to Hogwarts to engage in the Triwizard Tournament, a prestigious tournament that had not been held in centuries due to safety concerns (although, who really is concerned about safety in the Wizarding World?). She, along with thirty other students, male and female, departed for Hogwarts on October 30th, intending to enter in the Tournament and win everlasting glory and fame for themselves and their school.

Little did she know that she would discover more than she expected while at Hogwarts.

"C'mon Harry, it's time for dinner!"

"Just give me a minute Ron!" Harry called back to his friend who was tapping his foot at the entrance to the common room. Harry leaned back over his Transfiguration essay with a slight frown on his face, unable to figure out how to add an extra inch of information to make it the required fourteen inches that Professor McGonagall had asked for. After a few moments, he sighed and dropped his quill, deciding that he would probably be more able to focus with a full stomach. He packed up his books and parchment before heading over to Ron Weasley, one of Harry's best friends, who was standing by the common room with an annoyed expression on his face.

"Finally, Harry, my stomach is just waiting to be filled! What were you working on anyway that you couldn't wait until tonight to finish?" Ron exclaimed as they climbed through the portrait hole and set down the corridor towards the Great Hall.

"McGonagall's Switching Spells essay," Harry muttered as they headed down the marble staircase to the first floor. "I never started on it and its due tomorrow! And I've still got to do Snape's essay on antidotes, and that's due next Thursday! Plus we've got those other schools coming here tomorrow, and we're supposed to be ready to greet them at six."

"Blimey, I forgot all about those schools and the tournament itself even."

"Yeah, well it's not like we'll be participating in it will we? Not unless we magically grow three years older in the span of a day."

"Ah, you never know, maybe we could ask Fred and George for something, I'm sure they've figured out a way to get in."

The two continued to discuss the tournament until they reached the Great Hall, where they headed down the Gryffindor table and took seats across from Hermione Granger, the smartest girl in their year and their other best friend. Hermione was poring over Arithmancy textbooks when Harry and Ron arrived.

"Oi, Hermione!" said Ron as he began to grab food and pile it on his plate. "It's dinner, what're you still studying for?"

"I've got a test over this chapter in a few days and I've barely even studied for it!" cried Hermione as she continued to read and eat at the same time. "Plus I haven't finished McGonagall's essay, and we have to greet Beauxbatons and Durmstrang tomorrow, so I'll barely have any time then to get work done."

"Am I really the only one that forgot about that?" Ron wondered out loud as he chewed on some crisps.

"Guess you are," replied Harry as he ate his chicken leg. "Wonder who'll be Hogwarts champion though."

"You should place your bets on one of us!"

Harry turned to see Fred and George Weasley plop down next to them, grinning as though they had discovered something they shouldn't.

"And why would we do that?" Hermione responded as she finally closed her textbook to look at the twins. "You two aren't even of age yet, you won't be able to enter."

"Ah, but young Hermione, that's where your wrong," said Fred with confidence as he began to get some food to eat. "You see, we've found a way to get into the tournament,"

"A way that is ingenious and foolproof,"

"A way that Dumbledore himself would not be able to counter!"

"And that is?" said Hermione as she folded her arms, a skeptical look plastered on her face.

"An Aging Potion!" The twins chortled at once.

"You really think an Aging Potion would be able to get one over on Dumbledore?" Ron asked as Hermione scoffed at them and resumed eating.

"Well he said an impartial judge would determine who enters or not, so we wouldn't even be getting one over Dumbledore really!" George exclaimed. "Quite ingenious really. Sometimes the best solutions are the simplest ones!"

"I bet Dumbledore would find a way to sort out the people that aren't actually allowed to enter though," remarked Harry.

"Oh Harry, why must you be so negative?" Fred sighed. "Maybe if you were given an Aging Potion yourself- "

"You'd be more inclined to support our endeavors!" George finished.

"Thanks for the offer," Harry laughed as he continued eating. "But I think I'd rather just wait three more years."

The group continued discussing the tournament the rest of dinner before getting up and returning to the common room, where Fred and George immediately sought out their friend Lee Jordan to show them some new products they developed. Ron stared at them as they walked away, a thoughtful look on his face. "You know, maybe they have a point with the impartial judge."

"Oh, not you too Ron," Hermione sighed as she got out her books and continued her work. "Believe me, I don't think Dumbledore will be fooled by a silly Aging Potion. I'm sure he's found ways to block out people that aren't actually allowed to enter."

"Yeah, probably," murmured Ron as he sat down, looking thoroughly defeated. "Still though, three years later from now and we'll be able to enter."

"Three years," Harry repeated as he pulled out his Transfiguration essay and contemplated how to finish it.

The next day, classes were let out at five thirty so that students would be able to drop their book bags off in their dormitories and head down to the front grounds in anticipation of the arrivals of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang. The students were organized by house and lined up in the entrance hall, many murmuring anxiously.

"Weasley, straighten your hat," Professor McGonagall snapped at Ron. "Miss Patil, take that ridiculous thing out of your hair."

Parvati scowled and removed a large ornamental butterfly from the end of her plait.

The students followed their Heads as they filed down the front steps and lined up in front of the castle. The moon was already slightly visible over the Forbidden Forest and Harry could see the many first years in front of him shivering with excitement.

"Nearly six," muttered Ron, checking his watch and then staring down the drive. "How d'you reckon they're coming? The train?"

"I doubt it," said Hermione.

"How, then? Broomsticks?" Harry suggested, looking up at the starry sky.

"I don't think so, not from that far away…"

"A Portkey?" Ron suggested. "Or they could Apparate – maybe you're allowed to do it under twenty wherever they come from?"

"You can't Apparate inside the Hogwarts grounds, how often do I have to tell you?" said Hermione impatiently.

The students milled around, scanning the darkening grounds and searching for any sign of the foreign schools, but there seemed to be no movement. Everything was quite usual. Harry was beginning to feel rather chilly, and wished the other schools would hurry up.

And then Dumbledore called out from the back row where he stood with the other teachers –

"Aha! Unless I am very much mistaken, the delegation from Beauxbatons approaches!"

"Where?" said many students eagerly, all looking in different directions.

"There!" yelled a sixth year, pointing over the forest.

Something large, much larger than a broomstick – or indeed, a hundred broomsticks – was hurting across the deep blue sky toward the castle, growing larger all the time.

"It's a dragon!" shrieked one of the first years, losing her mind completely.

"Don't be stupid…it's a flying house!" cried Dennis Creevey.

Dennis was rather close with his guess. As the shape skimmed over the Forbidden Forest and entered the lights of the castle windows, they saw a gigantic horse-drawn carriage pulled through the air by a dozen winged horses, all palominos, and each the size of an elephant. It landed at a tremendous speed and stopped in front of the assembled Hogwarts students.

Harry just saw the coat of arms on the door of the carriage before it opened, and a boy in pale blue robes jumped down and unfolded a set of golden steps. He sprang back respectfully as Harry saw a giant high-heeled black shoe emerge from inside the carriage followed by the largest woman he had ever seen in his life. Many people gasped as they saw this woman. Harry believed he had only ever seen one person as large as this woman in his life, and that was Hagrid; in fact, he doubted whether there was any difference at all in their heights. Yet somehow, this woman that was now looking around the astonished crowd seemed even taller and larger to Harry. He heard Ron mutter something but didn't hear what he said, instead observing the large woman. She had an olive-skinned face with large black eyes and a beaky nose. Her hair was drawn back in a shining knob and she was dressed from head to toe in black satin, with many magnificent opals dangling off her person.

Dumbledore started to applaud; the students began to follow his lead, many of them looking around the people in front of them to get a better look at the woman. The woman relaxed into a gracious smile and walked towards Dumbledore while extending a glittering hand. Dumbledore, while rather tall himself, barely had to bend to kiss it.

"My dear Madame Maxime," he said. "Welcome to Hogwarts."

"Dumbly-dorr," said Madame Maxime in a deep voice. "I 'ope I find you well?"

"In excellent form, I thank you," replied Dumbledore.

"My pupils," said Madame Maxime, waving one of her enormous hands behind her.

Harry, who like many of the students had been watching the exchange between Madame Maxime and Dumbledore, turned to look at the emerging boys and girls, all of whom looked to be in their early twenties. He estimated about thirty students in total. They seemed to be shivering, which was unsurprising, given that their robes seemed to be made of fine silk, and none of them wore cloaks. A few had wrapped scarves and shawls around their heads. Some of them were staring as Hogwarts with apprehensive looks on their faces.

"'As Karkaroff arrived yet?" Madame Maxime asked.

"He should be here any moment," said Dumbledore. "In fact, I believe they may be arriving right now."

"Where?" Many students exclaimed as they began to look around in the sky for another flying carriage. But then –

"Can you hear something?" Ron shouted.

Harry listened; a loud and oddly eerie noise was drifting toward them from out of the darkness: a muffled rumbling and sucking sound, as though an immense vacuum cleaner were moving along a riverbed….

"The lake!" yelled Lee Jordan, pointing down at it." Look at the lake!"

From their position in front of the castle they had an excellent view of the smooth black surface of the massive lake – except that the surface was no longer smooth. They could see great bubbles forming on the surface, waves washing over the muddy banks – and then, out in the very middle of the lake, a whirlpool appeared, as if a giant plug had just been pulled out of the lake's floor…

A long black pole began to rise slowly out of the whirlpool…and then Harry saw the rigging…

"It's a mast!" he said to Ron, Hermione, and the people around him.

Sure enough, a magnificent ship rose out of the water, gleaming in the moonlight. It had a strange skeletal look to it, almost as if it was a resurrected wreck, and many of the dim, misty lights shimmering at its portholes looked like ghostly eyes. Finally, with a great sloshing noise, the ship emerged entirely, bobbing on the turbulent water, and began to glide toward the bank. A few moments later, they heard the splash of an anchor being through in to the shallows, and the thud of a plank being lowered.

People were disembarking; they could see the silhouettes passing the lights in the ship's portholes. All of them, Harry noticed, seemed to be built along the lines of Crabbe and Goyle…but he noticed as they drew nearer that it was really because they were wearing thick cloaks of matted fur. The man who was leading them was wearing furs of a different sort; sleek and silver, like his hair.

"Dumbledore!" he called heartily as he walked up the slope. "How are you, my dear fellow, how are you?"

"Quite excellent, thank you, Professor Karkaroff." Dumbledore replied.

Harry thought that Karkaroff had a rather fruity voice, and as he stepped into the light observed that he was tall with short white hair, and had a small goatee. He shook Dumbledore's hands while looking up at the castle.

"Dear old Hogwarts," he said while smiling; his teeth were rather yellow and dirty, and Harry noticed that his eyes remained cold and shrewd. "How good it is to be back here…Viktor, come along here to the warmth…you don't mind Dumbledore? Viktor has a slight head cold."

And as Karkaroff beckoned forward one of his students, Harry noticed the boy's prominent curved nose and thick black eyebrows. Having attended the Quidditch World Cup the past year, Harry was sure he knew who the boy was, and did not need Ron's hiss in his year to figure out who.

"Harry – it's Viktor Krum!"

Fleur entered the castle looking up as the Beauxbatons delegation set foot in the entrance hall. Although it was not Beauxbatons, she really had to admire the magnificent hall; with the tall roof and marble staircase off to the side, it did have quite nice architecture.

"Come on, let's go find seats!" Fleur looked down to see her friend Marie Levesque beckoning her to follow her into the Great Hall. She turned around to see the Durmstrang delegation and Hogwarts students beginning to follow them before she went to follow her friend into the Great Hall. After stepping foot in the Great Hall, she and the rest of the delegation stopped again.

"Wow," many of them murmured as they looked around the beautiful and extravagant hall. The Hall stretched out long and wide and featured four separate tables, each with a different colored banner flying over them. At the end of the hall stood a single long table that had a black banner flying over it with what she guessed was the Hogwarts coat of arms. The roof (or was it a roof?) seemed to be enchanted to her so that it reflected the sky, something she thought was rather impressive and clever. She then decided to glance around the hall, and was unsure of where to go now.

"Where do we sit?" Alexandra Moreau echoed her thoughts as the delegation was now unsure of where to sit at for the feast.

"Let's sit under the blue banner," Marie responded as she walked towards the Ravenclaw table, which was set to the very right of the room when entering from the entrance hall, with the rest of the delegation following closely behind. They sat near the back of the hall, where the table had been slightly extended, along with the Slytherin table which was positioned at the very left of the hall. As Fleur sat down in between Marie and Alexandra, she saw that the Durmstrang students had sat at the Slytherin table, while the rest of the Hogwarts students filed in and sat according to their respective houses.

"I will say the architecture here is quite impressive," Marie remarked as the Beauxbatons students began to converse quietly, awaiting everyone else to sit down. "Obviously I prefer Beauxbatons, but this will suffice for the year, don't you think Fleur?"

"Yes, it's quite cozy," Fleur replied as Dumbledore, Madame Maxime, and Karkaroff filed in and sat at the long High Table at the very back of the hall. Dumbledore remained standing and the hall became silent almost immediately.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, ghosts and – most particularly – guests," said Dumbledore, beaming at the foreign students and Hogwarts students alike. "I am honored and have the great pleasure of welcoming you all to Hogwarts. I hope and trust that your stay here will be both comfortable and enjoyable."

"The tournament will be officially opened at the end of the feast," continued Dumbledore. "I now invite you all to eat, drink, and make yourselves at home!"

The moment Dumbledore sat down, Fleur saw the empty plates in front of her immediately filled with food. She noticed some French dishes were mixed in along with the English dishes that seemed to be rather different in design and style. At once her friends engaged in conversation.

"So, who do you think will be the Durmstrang and Hogwarts champion?" asked Marie as she began to eat a plate of ratatouille.

"Marie, we don't even know anyone from Durmstrang or Hogwarts!" laughed Alexandra.

"I bet you know who that is though," Marie nodded towards the Slytherin table where the Durmstrang students sat at, pointing at a man who seemed to be engaged in conversation by both Durmstrang and Slytherin students alike. Fleur peered at the table before recognizing the student.

"Is that Viktor Krum?" Alexandra said in disbelief, also squinting her eyes at the Slytherin table.

"Sure is," Marie replied. "I was at the Quidditch World Cup this summer; I didn't even know he was still in school! Can't be older than twenty, I suppose."

"Should be more than qualified, seeing as he's the best Seeker in the world," Alexandra muttered.

The Beauxbatons students continued discussing the tournament for the next few minutes. Fleur then looked up and down the table they were sitting at. "Is there any more bouillabaisse?"

"Not here, but I think I see a bowl over by that redhead student at that table," said Alexandra, pointing at the Gryffindor table.

"I'll be right back," said Fleur as she got up from the table and walked towards the Gryffindor table. Many boys turned to see her and seemed to become temporarily speechless; Fleur ignored this, being quite used to it for several years now, and continued to approach the Gryffindor table.

"Excuse me, are you wanting the bouillabaisse?" Fleur asked. The redhead Alexandra pointed out immediately turned people and opened his mouth, with nothing coming out but a faint gurgling noise. Fleur was tempted to roll her eyes, but didn't, instead turning to the black-haired student sitting next to him, who she noticed quickly did not seem to be fazed by her appearance.

"Yeah, have it," said the black-haired student, pushing the dish towards Fleur. Fleur noticed that the student had beautiful emerald colored eyes, with a rather handsome face to go along with it. Hoping she wasn't blushing, she asked, "You have finished with it?"

"Yeah," the redhead said breathlessly. "Yeah, it was excellent."

Continuing to ignore the redhead, Fleur picked up the dish and smiled at the black-haired student, who smiled back before turning back to his plate. Fleur lingered for a split second before turning to walk back to her spot, continuing to ignore the many boys staring at her. She placed the dish down and sat down just as Marie and Alexandra were finishing up their discussion on the Triwizard Tournament, instead turning to see the large bowl of bouillabaisse that Fleur had just brought over.

"Ooh, you got it!" squealed Alexandra as they begin to split the dish amongst each other. "Did that redhead stare at you too?"

"Unfortunately," Fleur muttered as she too slowly began to eat. Her focus was not entirely on the conversation however. She was still thinking about that black-haired student, the one with such striking emerald eyes, and a rugged yet handsome face…


Fleur snapped out of her thoughts to notice her two friends staring at her. "Are you alright?" Marie asked.

"Yes," Fleur responded. "Sorry, I was just thinking about something,"

She continued to eat slowly while sneaking glances at the black-haired student, who seemed to be conversing with the redhead student and a girl with rather bushy brown hair. Fleur leaned over to Marie and asked, "Say, Marie, you wouldn't happen to know who that black-haired student is next to the redhead, would you?"

Marie looked towards the Gryffindor table, where the black-haired student was now conversing with other people up and down the table. "If I'm not mistaken…I think that's Harry Potter!"

"What?" Alexandra also turned to look at the Gryffindor table, where Harry was now listening to a pair of twin redheads making jokes. "That really is Harry Potter!"

"The Boy Who Lived?" Fleur questioned, still glancing at Harry while she ate her bouillabaisse.

"Yeah, that's him," Marie replied. "Why'd you ask?"

"Oh, nothing," said Fleur, finishing her dinner. "I just heard some people talking about him and wanted to make sure."

But as she listened to the rest of the Beauxbatons students discuss the tournament further, her thoughts lingered on Harry Potter and their brief conversation. Why was this boy, who was a couple years younger, so intriguing to her? She knew that Harry Potter was famous throughout the world for defeating the Dark Lord, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. But she had never met him before. In fact, he didn't even know her name! It was ridiculous that he was in her thoughts like this. No, she should focus on the tournament and just forget about Harry Potter. Just focus on the tournament.

Easier said than done.

After dinner was completed, Dumbledore stood up once again and began to talk more about the tournament. Fleur watched as he introduced Department Heads from the British Ministry of Magic (Bartemius Crouch of the Department of International Magical Cooperation and Ludo Bagman of the Department of Magical Games and Sports). He then proceeded to talk about the champions, which was when Fleur and everyone around her immediately focused their attention on Dumbledore.

Dumbledore, noticing the sudden attentiveness of the students, smiled and said, "The casket, then, if you please, Mr. Filch."

Everyone turned to watch Filch approach Dumbledore carrying a large wooden chest encrusted with jewels. Many students started to murmur in excitement as the chest was placed carefully on the table before Dumbledore.

"The instructions for the tasks the champions will face this year have already been examined by Mr. Crouch and Mr. Bagman," said Dumbledore. "Necessary arrangements have been made in preparation for each challenge. There will be three tasks, spaced throughout the school year, and they will test the champions in many different ways…their magical prowess – their daring – their powers of deduction – and, of course, their ability to cope with danger."

"As you know, three champions compete in the tournament," continued Dumbledore. "one from each of the participating schools. They will be marked based on how well they perform each task and the winner of the Triwizard Cup will be announced at the end of the third task. The champions will be chosen by an impartial selector: the Goblet of Fire." Dumbledore took his wand out and tapped it on the lid of the chest, which slowly opened to present a large wooden cup that had blue and white flames dancing within. The goblet was carefully placed on top of the closed chest, where it was visible for everyone in the Hall to see.

"Anyone wishing to submit themselves as champion must write their name and school clearly upon a slip of parchment and drop it into the goblet," said Dumbledore. "Aspiring champions have twenty-four hours in which to put their names forward. Tomorrow night, on Halloween, the goblet will return the names of the three it has judged most worthy to represent their schools. This goblet will remain here, where it will be freely accessible to all those wishing to compete."

"To ensure that no underage student yields to temptation," said Dumbledore with a twinkle in his eyes, as he looked around at the various Hogwarts students (his eyes lingered on the Weasley twins), "I will be drawing an Age Line around the Goblet of Fire once it has been placed in the entrance hall. Nobody under the age of twenty will be able to cross this line."

"I must warn all that wish to compete; this tournament is not to be taken lightly. Once selected by the Goblet of Fire, you are obliged to see the tournament through to the end, as selection constitutes a binding, magical contract. Once you become a champion, you remain a champion. Therefore, please be certain that you are willing to participate in the tournament. Now, I think it is time for bed. Good night to you all."

There was a large scraping of benches as everyone in the Hall got up and prepared to leave. Fleur turned to follow the rest of the delegation towards the entrance hall, many of whom were whispering excitedly about the possibility of being selected.

"I'd love to be selected," murmured Marie, her eyes gleaming. "The opportunity of a lifetime! When do you think Madame Maxime will let us enter?"

"She'll take us there tomorrow morning I bet," replied Fleur. "I wonder if anyone from Hogwarts that's not of age is going to try to enter, though."

"I'll bet you there will be," remarked Alexandra. "If I was underage I'd probably try and enter too,"

The group continued to move toward the entrance before stopping.

"What's the holdup?" Marie said annoyingly, trying to look over the heads of the students in front.

"Yeah, why aren't we moving?"

"Did something happen?"

Fleur made her way to the front of the delegation to see that Professor Karkaroff was leading the Durmstrang students to the entrance hall but had stopped to look at someone. Fleur followed his frozen gaze to see that he was looking at none other than Harry Potter, who gazed back at Karkaroff, seemingly unaffected.

"Yeah, that's Harry Potter," said a growling voice.

Karkaroff (and many students around) spun around. Fleur turned to see perhaps the weirdest man she had ever met. The man had a face that looked as if it had been carved by weathered wood, with almost every inch of skin seeming to be scarred. The mouth looked like a diagonal gash, and a large chunk of his nose was missing. But Fleur noticed his eyes first. One of them was small, dark, and beady. The other seemed to be in a socket and was large and perfectly round, with a vivid blue color. It seemed to be rolling carelessly, without blinking, quite independently of the normal eye. Fleur had never seen anyone quite like him.

Apparently, Karkaroff had seen the man before though, for the color drained from his face and he raised his finger to point at him. "You!" he shouted, staring at the man as if he was unsure of who he really was.

"Me," the man responded. "And unless you've got something to say to Potter, Karkaroff, you might want. You're blocking the doorway."

Fleur looked around to see that nearly half the students in the Hall were waiting, peering over each other's shoulders to see why the line was not moving.

Karkaroff glared at the man for a little bit longer before sweeping his students away with him. Once they were all gone, she intended to let Harry and his friends through as they had been waiting for longer than them, but Harry made a motion with his hands and smiled at her, saying, "After you."

"Thank you," Fleur said, smiling brightly at Harry before leading the Beauxbatons delegation through the entrance hall and down the steps onto the front lawn towards the carriage. She moved quickly enough that Harry did not see the slight blush that crossed Fleur's face.

As the Beauxbatons students arrived at the carriage, they entered and found their respective rooms, chatting amongst themselves and preparing to go to bed for the night. Later that night while Marie was sound asleep in the bed next to her, Fleur was still thinking about her interactions with Harry Potter. He seemed unaffected by her Veela allure, a stark contrast from many of the other boys she had met in her life. Not only that, but he was rather attractive himself, with a rugged presence and those piercing emerald colored eyes.

Yes, Fleur smiled to herself as she shifted, preparing to sleep, there was something about that Harry Potter boy that she wanted to learn more about. Definitely something to think about.