DISCLAIMER: None of these characters are mine, and I am not making a profit off of this story. I do this purely for my own amusement.
The flames in the Goblet shot up, and Professor Dumbledore grabbed the smoking piece of paper out of the air.
"Fleur Delacour." he said, and his loud voice echoed throughout the almost completely silent Great Hall, ringing in Fleur's ears. The witch was frozen from shock, and only vaguely heard her fellow students cheering for her. She rose from her seat, gracefully of course, and looked out at the sea of faces staring up at her. She saw lust from the glazed eyes of the boys, and hatred mixed with jealousy from the piercing eyes of the girls. Considering her Veela heritage, the looks she received were normal for her, and she had been used to them for some time now. Time froze, however, as her eyes landed on the most peculiar reaction to herself that she had ever seen. Not hatred, jealousy, or lust, but undiluted curiosity. A bushy-haired Gryffindor girl was staring at her silently from amidst the noise, but her gaze was not filled with hatred. Fleur was transfixed. She had never seen anything like this in her life, except with a Veela and its mate. Veela always fell in love with someone that was immune to their thrall, and it was legend that Veela could tell who their true love (and hopefully their mate) was the first time they laid eyes on them. So that could mean...
All of the sudden, Fleur snapped back to reality and remembered where she was. She was in the middle of the Great Hall in Hogwarts being announced as Beauxbatons champion and attracting the intrigued eyes of a(n extremely beautiful) younger witch. She must have been staring longer than she had realized, because some of her fellow students started to give her gentle nudges to get her moving.
Fleur straightened her shoulders and held her head high as she walked to the front of the room. Maybe it was her imagination, but she thought she could feel gaze of the strange young witch boring into her back. She felt her stomach flutter but brushed it off as nerves. The professor directed her to an unimpressive doorway at the side of the room, almost unnoticeable in the grandness of the Great Hall. Stepping into the room, she turned back one last time before she closed the door. Surely enough, the bushy-haired Gryffindor's eyes were boring into Fleur, and the girl's expression was a cross between amusement and concern. Fleur locked eyes with her, and then stepped in the room, shutting the door behind her.
Fleur stared up at the ceiling of her room in the Beauxbatons carriage later that night. She was exhausted, but every time she closed her eyes the face of the curious young Gryffindor was all she could see. Giving up on sleep, Fleur slipped on a thick cloak and made her way out of the enormous interior of the carriage.
A blast of cool evening air hit her as she stepped out, making her shiver and clutch her cloak closer to her body. The French witch looked around at the quickly darkening landscape. She craned her neck, looking up at the higher floors of the castle, and wondered who that girl was, and what she was doing right now.
"Fleur, Madame Maxime says you must come inside, it is too cold for 'er liking." a girl said from the doorway of the carriage. Fleur had met her before, but only briefly. She struggled to recall her name, but gave up with a shrug and started towards the carriage.
"Oui." Fleur nodded, and shed her cloak once she had stepped into the carriage. She took a minute to study the front room of the carriage. It was beautiful and elaborate. The whole room was full of gold and crystal glinting in the light of the intricate chandeliers. There were two curving staircases sprouting from the middle of the room, each going in an opposite direction. They both led to long hallways lined with doors that led to each student's room. Fleur started up the stairs to her room, slowly, as she wasn't tired at all yet.
"Fleur, I need to speak wiz you in my office." came Madame Maxime's voice from behind her. Fleur wondered how she hadn't seen her headmistress in the room before, but followed her through a doorway to the left of the staircases. They entered a circular room, painted the same light blue as everywhere else. There was a large white desk domineering most of the space, with an elegant wingback chair behind it. That is where Madame Maxime took her seat, gesturing that Fleur should do the same. The headmistress must have seen the worried look on Fleur's face, because she started to chuckle.
"Do not worry, you are not in trouble Fleur, I just wanted to speak wiz you about ze tournament and your classes. You 'ave been wondering how you would 'ave time for both, no?"
"Yes, I admit I 'ave been concerned about zat, headmistress," Fleur started, "but I knew zat you would 'ave figured out a way to make zis all work." Her headmistress smiled, and pulled a stack of four or five papers from somewhere in her enormous desk.
"I 'ave worked it out wiz Professor Dumblydore. First, you do not need to worry, you will be taking your exams after ze official school year 'as ended. I will be privately tutoring you, whereas ze ozer girls will be going to class wiz ze Ravenclaw students. Also, Dumblydore 'as given me ze name of one of 'is top students. She is younger zan you, but he 'as said zat she is brilliant, and ze most familiar wiz ze library out of anyone in ze school. 'Er name is 'Ermione Granger, and you are to be meeting her 'er tomorrow in ze library after dinner." Fleur nodded, taking in all the information. Being the Beauxbatons champion hadn't seemed real to her until now, when all of the details, like her schooling, were being straightened out.
"Zat is all for now, I will see you in ze morning." the headmistress said, and Fleur was dismissed. She walked up the stairs to her room, and flopped down onto her bed once she had locked the door. She was beginning to get scared about the tournament. She had known from the beginning that it was dangerous, and that people had died, but it was different now that she actually had to compete. She sighed and shook her head, getting up to change into her pajamas.
She slid in between the covers of her bed and put her head back onto her pillow. Two things crossed her mind as she drifted off to sleep. The mysterious girl from the Great Hall, and whoever this Hermione Granger was that she was supposed to meet tomorrow.