Hey everyone! Chapter 5 of Unheard Music is here. First I really want to thank my beta, lily. Lover.17 She's been an awesome help. :)
Secondly I want to thank all of the people who reviewed. It was really awesome to see them all in my inbox. Thank you so much. I do just want to clear something up, because a reviewer brought something to my attention. I was never really clear about Voldemort in this story, in the first chapter I said that he didn't really exist. What I really meant was that Harry defeated him when he was just a baby. So Harry is still the boy who lived, and the Triwizard tournament still happened, though Harry was not a part of it. If anyone notices a place where I wrote something that doesn't fit with this, please let me know.
Thirdly, and finally, I apologize that this chapter is a bit shorter than the others; it's a bit of a filler.
Please enjoy this chapter, and don't forget to review! :P
Disclaimer: I own nothing and am making no profit from this story.
Halfway through November and Fleur was nowhere close to her goal of getting to know Hermione (getting together with Hermione). Their meetings had become more and more frequent, but each was very short, and the conversations were impersonal and without meaning.
It frustrated Fleur to no end. She wanted the girl. No, she needed the girl. The craving she felt every time the girl was near had only grown stronger. Every fiber of her body desired, wanted, craved, needed, required that girl. Fleur sighed and continued eating her breakfast.
It was a rather miserable November morning, the ceiling of the great hall was cloudy, and looked cold. Snow had already dusted the ground on several occasions, and Fleur pulled her cloak tightly around her to keep warm. To top it all off, it was a Hogsmeade day, and all of the students would be going into the town, even the first and second years. In some ways, Fleur was glad that all of the students would be gone for the day, she needed to sing, and it was too risky when they were there. Well, specifically when Hermione was there. The music had a way of building and bubbling until it boiled, and she could not contain the sound anymore.
She sighed as she watched the students eating in the Great Hall. They were happy cheerful and ready for their day out on the town. Her eyes strayed to the Gryffindor table where Hermione, Harry, and Ron were just finishing their breakfast. Hermione looked wonderful as she sat with her friends, Fleur couldn't help but to notice. She always noticed when Hermione was around, even if she couldn't see her she would get a shiver running up and down her spine and the back of her neck would prickle. Fleur watched (longingly) as Hermione, Harry, and Ron left the hall before she herself departed for her quarters to spend some time grading.
The sun had come out by the time Fleur made her way down to the edge of the lake. It was still blustery and cold, the wind whipped her platinum blonde hair around her face, and it tried to steal her cloak off from her shoulders. She sat near the edge of the water, and leaned back against a rock. She glanced around, confirming that she was alone. Not that it really mattered; the person that she was worried about was happily in Hogsmeade.
This time when the music came, it was a song her grand-mère had sung to her when she was little. The song was in the language of the Veela; a beautiful flowing language. The language of the Veela was an ancient language, mostly forgotten by the general society. Fleur herself could speak it; her grand-mère had taught her the language as she was growing up, and she loved it, twisting her tongue around the sounds. She had heard that it was an ethereal experience to listen to Veelas converse in their language, almost a sensual experience.
Fleur stopped singing and wrinkled her nose at the memory of her mother telling her that talking in the language of the Veela was a wonderful way to talk dirty in the bedroom. The images that that one comment had brought on had haunted her for weeks, and not in a good way. The mate of a Veela, once the two are properly bonded to each other (that is to say they both recognize the relationship and all that it entails to be in love with a Veela, and then consummate it) can understand the language of the Veela. They could not speak it unless they learned it like any other language, but they could understand it.
She was interrupted from her thoughts by none other than Rubius Hagrid who had somehow been able to approach without Fleur noticing. Somewhere in the back of her mind she was surprised at his quietness, considering he was such a large man.
"Er, I'm sorry if I'm interruptin' anything, but I couldn't help but t' hear you singing over here. You um, have a beau'iful voice." He reddened. "Ahem, but th' real reason I came over was t' ask you something. Once winter sets in, the Care of Magical Creatures class is goin' to be moving inside the castle cause o' the cold. I was wonderin' if you would be willing to come to the seventh year class and talk a bit abou' Veelas and their culture. I'm plannin' on assigning each student a magical creature to research, an' as part of that, they would have to do an interview with that magical creature. I'd really be thankful if you'd do that. I think it's really importan' for the young folk to know about all o' the other creatures and cultures out in the world. O' course if you'd rather not come talk that's fine also, really you shouldn't feel pressured or-"
Fleur cut him off. " 'agrid, it would be my pleasure to come and talk to the Seventh Years about the Veela. Please, let me know when you would like me to attend your class." She smiled a charming smile. "But if you'll please excuse me, there are some things I must attend to. I will speak with you again soon non? A beintôt."
Thanks for reading!