Author's Note (And be careful, I feel like this is going to be a hefty one): Heeeeeey guys! Look who's not dead, surprisingly enough! This girl! RIght here! Even despite almost dying due to science classes! So, I went back to finish this story, and realized that parts of it were actually terrible (Like, seriously really really bad) so Imma rework it, make it super perfect, and FINISH IT. HOLD YOUR SHOCK, IMMA DO IT THIS TIME. And if you're new to this story, congratulations, you missed the crappy first drafts, and a year long hiatus! So good on ya mate! And if you're old to this story, I AM SO SORRY THANKS FOR STICKING AROUND BUT I AM SO. SO. SORRY. FORGIVE ME. PLEASE DON't START READING OTHER AUTHORS, I'M TRYING TO MAKE A CHANGE! So this is the updated first chapter, and I'm going to do the other ones... now. ish. Words of confidence hey?

Fleur really didn't want to leave France. Being where she had spent the majority of her life, Fleur felt a connection with her hometown. She really did love her country, loved the seasons, the gorgeous architecture of Paris, the crisp crackle of leaves being crushed underfoot in the fall. It was something in the air of France that she enjoyed, almost like they were separated from the rest of the world. Here, they had their own life, their own culture that was able to exist blissfully separate from the rest of the world. It was not like the dank, grey, wet atmosphere of London, her final destination. The hustle and bustle of people in a big city, dominated by their next and closest destination. Something about the place intimidated her, the crushing throngs of people always with someplace they need to be at as quick as possible. She knew she would soon be longing for the rolling field of the French prairies in no time.

According to her father, a change of scenery was good for. His shiny new job at the Ministry wasn't half bad either, but she knew he was just looking out for her. And it's not like he was wrong. A change of scenery could be good for her. Would be good for her.

"Gabrielle! Etes-vous finis?" Fleur called in an exasperated tone. They were on the cusp of having all their stuff packed away in the moving truck, and her little sister tended to get a little...distracted. As was the way of the nine year old.

"...er...non..." Fleur groaned.

"Fine, but it will be your head Maman et Pere come down on," Fleur said carrying out the last of her stuff to the moving truck out front. She could hear Gabrielle mumbling harshly from inside the house, and Fleur chuckled lightly. She looked up again to see her younger sister run out of the house, her arms laden with boxes, bright blonde hair streaming out behind her.

"'ere, 'appy?" Fleur just laughed. She tried to take Gabrielle seriously when she was upset, but it was a rather difficult feat to take a disgruntled red faced child with bright blonde hair seriously.

"Oui. Go tell maman zat we are ready," Gabrielle stood for a moment, mentally translated Fleur's English words, and turned to carry out her orders.

"Maman, peux-on aller? Aujord'hui?" Gabrielle yelled in her demanding nine year old voice. Fleur's mother came out with the last of the boxes, and added them to the already extensive collection in the truck. She handed a small box of left over, mismatched items to Gabrielle, the cast offs of what she had forgotten. She blushed lightly, and almost ceremoniously placed the last box into the van.

Fleur stood, and watched as the movers closed the flap of the truck overtop of everything she had ever owned, and she couldn't help but feel a little bit nostalgic. There was something to be said for new beginnings, but this was so crisp, so definite.

Maybe that was a good thing. She couldn't really tell. Not quite yet.

Taking Gabrielle's hand, she led the two girls to their car. Taking a long look at the house she had called home for all 17 years of her life, she let out a long sigh. It was time to go.

There had to be something wrong. Because this couldn't be right…

Right?

Fleur stood at the train station, squarely in the middle of platforms nine and ten. There in front of her, her ticket clearly read in crisp black ink, Platform Nine and Three Quarters.

Nine….

Ten…

Fuck, English transportation makes NO sense…

Fluer sighed harshly in frustration, pushing scraggly blonde hairs out of her face and swirling around for someone who could possibly help her.

Yeah, that's right, go ask the friendly muggle neighbourhood train station worker. He'll know where the invisible platform to the wizard school is. No sir, I'm perfectly fine!

What kind of a name was Hogwarts anyway? Like, as in warts? On a hog? Because that's oh so attractive.

Grabbing the handle of her trunk, Fleur stomped her way over to a bench and plopped herself down in defeat. She ran her hands over her face roughly in frustration, and checked her watch. It was 10:45, her mythical train was to leave in about fifteen minutes, and judging by the way things were looking, she figured herself to be pretty much shit outta luck.

She thrummed her fingers on the suitcase handle and looked around for someone to help her. Ordinarily, her mother would have helped her, instead of dropping her off at the front door and speeding off to go get her nails done, or something similarly pathetically materialistic.

It's amazing the strain getting kicked out of high school puts the middle-aged, entitled, rich French members of society, Fleur thought drily to herself, knowing she was being petulant and immature, but not really having the capacity to care. At least not until she found a way to make it onto this stupid train.

"Uhm. Excuse me? But I don't suppose you're looking for a way to Hogwarts… Are you?" Fleur started at the sound of someone speaking to her, jerking her sharply out of her reverie. A girl was standing in front of her, a trunk similar in size to her own, with an elaborately decorated red H on the front of it. Her brunette curly hair barely reached her shoulder blades and Fleur eyed her critically, giving her bright pink sweatshirt, faded plain blue jeans and scuffed tennis shoes a critical once over. She couldn't have been older than fifteen.

"What?" She snapped sharply, partly because she was surprised, and partly because she didn't want this newcomer knowing the plight of her situation. The girl just raised an eyebrow at her outburst.

"I don't suppose you are looking for platform nine and three quarters en route to Hogwarts?" She replied simply. Fleurs expressions softened a fraction.

"Oui... 'ow did you know?" The brunette cracked a toothy smile, and Fleur felt her initial hostility slowly ebb away.

"Been there, done that. They should really put in fine print on the ticket 'Caution: Platform incognito.' Plus, your trunk reads Beauxbatons, I assumed you weren't just a disgruntled traveller caught up in London. Are you a new transfer?"

"Excuse my tone, but I don't really see 'ow dats any of your business." Fleur pressed thorugh tightened lips. The brunette held up her hands in surrender, but a slight smile remained, playing about a pink mouth.

"You have a fair point. But… I mean, unless you want to stay on this dirty old platform forever..."

Fleur huffed, stomped her feet around, clinging to the last shreds of her petulance.

"So… What's the big secret?" The brunette smiled that same toothy grin, and grabbed Fleur's hand, pulling her off the bench, a light pink settled on her face.

"It's really simple you see, implemented about 4 years after building King's Cross station, Platform nine and three quarters has been the predominant travel choice for students for hundreds of years. According to Hogwarts: A History…" Fleur let the brown haired girl natter off, her words going too fast for her to really understand it that well anyways.

This girl is crazy…

Fleur thought this idly, and yet, allowed herself to be pulled along nonetheless.

"You see that brick pillar?" Fleur nodded uncertainly, looking at that same mocking plastic sign that read Platform 10.

"Run through it with your cart," She stated.

Fleur laughed. And realized that the girl was completely serious, and had even backed up a few steps to give her room.

Yup. Totally and completely crazy.

"Uhm. I mean, I don't mean to be rude, but ah. No? Is that the right English word? No! Are you crazy?!" The brunette just looked at her with a flat expression for a moment, before rolling her eyes with a haughty sigh.

"Look. Do you trust me?"

Fleur was taken slightly aback by her question.

"B-but, I mean, I don't even know your name. And you zeem a leetle…" Fleur sputtered about for a moment, struggling to find a word

"Yes yes, I know, I'm an insufferable know it all, I've heard it before. But right now, your gut feeling, do you trust me?" Deep brown eyes came in full contact with icy blue for a split second.

"Yes."

Fleur's response was instantaneous, and her eyes widened a bit with her own surprise. It wasn't like she was lying, her gut gave her the feeling of trust for this tiny brown haired stranger in scuffed tennis shoes. She exuded genuine friendly warmth, something that was found far and few between at Beauxbatons.

"Here, I'll go first. Just run right through," Hermione lined up the wheels of her own trunk with the very solid looking brick pillar. She cast a brisk look around to make sure she was in the clear, and took off running.

Fleur couldn't help but twitch visibly as the girl's cart came into contact with the pillar, even though she sailed right on through without any problems. For someone who had grown up in a family surrounded by magic, just trying to get to the damned platform was making Fleur feel like an eleven year old girl all over again.

Do you trust me?

And for some odd reason, Fleur did. She squeezed her eyes closed tight and held her breath and proceeded to mirror the brunette's actions perfectly. A funny tingling sensation came over her as she passed through the barrier, starting the very tips of her fingers and slowly spreading in towards her midsection, like a sip of whiskey on a cold winter's day. The tingles ebbed away as she reached the other side, and Fleur opened her eyes, exhaling slowly. A giant train loomed before her next to a nearly empty platform, steam streaming out from underneath, and light streaming in through the high placed windows set in ancient brick. Light, tinkling laughter rang out from behind her, and Fleur turned to see the same brunette trying to smother a smirk away from sight, her hands innocently tucked away behind her back.

"And what iz it you are laughing at?" Fleur asked.

"You remind me of a friend of mine, when he flew a broomstick for the first time." She said simply, a dreamy sort of smile tugging at the corners of her lips. Fleur found it contagious, and was soon smiling the same back at her. Fleur held her gaze for a moment.

"I'm Hermione, by the way. Hermione Granger," The girl introduced herself, holding out her hand. Fleur grasped it tightly, giving it a small shake.

"Fleur. Fleur Delacour. Ashante."

"C'mon. The train is about to leave soon, and we should probably get seats. You're welcome to share a car with me? I mean, you don't have to if you don't want. I just assumed that you wouldn't have anyone to sit with because you're new, but I guess that's presumptuous of me to think-"

"I'd love to sit with you," Fleur said with a smile that spread like wildfire.

Hermione grinned and pulled her along, and once again, Fleur allowed herself to be led.

Fleur followed after Hermione, pulling her trunk after her. She gazed at the train with wonder. She'd seen trains on Muggle TV shows before, but she had never actually seen an actual train. It was an experience for her. Hermione led her onto the train, and they stored their bags and found an empty carriage.

"Oh, by the way you should know, my friends might-" Hermione was cut off by a tall, red haired boy bursting into the carriage, a lithe black haired boy with jet green eyes trailing behind him.

"Bloody hell Hermione! Do you have any idea how hard it is to find you on this bloody train?"

"...join us," Hermione finished flatly. The red haired boy plopped down on the seat next to Hermione, groaning loudly, and leaning back. Fleur could hear his spine popping from her own seat, and winced slightly. Hermione dug her elbow into his ribs without any mercy.

"Ronald! What are you, an animal?" Hermione huffed, and sent an apologetic glance towards Fleur that clearly read Yeah, so this is happening… Ron jerked up, and seemed to notice Fleur's presence for the first time. He straightened up in his seat, futilely attempting to fix his unkempt red mop.

Fleur blinked.

"Uhm...hi. Sorry… about that. I'm Ron," He said, sticking out his hand for Fleur to shake. Her eyes flicked down to his hand and she shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

"Uh..you 'ave chocolate on your 'and," Fleur pointed out, and made a slight face. Ron's face turned a deep maroon as he retracted his hand and feverishly tried to clean them. Fleur cleared her throat as the dark-haired boy who had followed Ron in sat down timidly beside her.

"Hi! I'm Er, Fleur Delacour," She said with a smile, holding out her hand once more.

"Harry Potter." Fleur froze, her hand dangling in the air, empty. Her eyes flashed up to his forehead and, to be sure, there was that same thin, lightning shaped scar.

"Oh… So...it's true zen? At Beauxbatons, we 'ad 'eard of what 'ad 'appened, but to be honest, no one ever zought it was true…" She trailed off. Harry only shrugged and blushed a little.

"Well, it is very nice to be making your acquaintance 'arry. And for what it's worth, and think you are quite the incredible thing indeed." She said, offering her hand up once more. The boy smiled and shook it warmly, and Fleur caught Hermione grinning at her lightly form across the car. Her eyes slid back across towards Ron, and stared a little at the blatant nature of his staring. A silence began to settle on the car, and not for the first time, Fleur shifted uncomfortably. Harry followed her lone of sight and smacked Ron on the knee.

"Ron," Ron jumped as if he'd been shocked, his eyes sliding into focus on something other than her for the first time since the train had lurched into motion. "You remember that insane call the referee made at the World Cup?" Ron's focus switched to Harry as the two fell into an easy conversation about Quidditch. Fleur sent Harry a sidelong grateful look. She sighed, and began a conversation with Hermione. Maybe the move to England wasn't such a bad one after all. Hermione was proving to be rather enjoyable company, even with her slightly unorthodox and mildly creepy friends. Before they knew it, the train had arrived at Hogsmeade station and they rushed into the carriages that would take them to the school.

Upon reaching the castle, Fleur was informed, much to her disappointment that she would have to join the first years to take part in the sorting into the houses. After Harry, Ron, and Hermione wished her luck, she slid into the horde of ten and eleven year olds, sticking to the back of the crowd. She pulled her new Hogwarts robe tighter around herself and shivered against the sudden cold and wet of the school campus. At seventeen, Fleur dwarfed all the students, and stood out like a sore thumb. She shuffled along, ignoring the younger students and wishing that they'd just ignore her. Even being from Beauxbatons, she had never really become accustomed to people staring at her.

The inside of the school was magnificent. Marble floors covered every inch of floor, and elaborate paintings and chandeliers gave the entrance hall a sense of elegance. As per usual, the paintings moved, and the various people of Hogwarts's history waved gaily at the passing students. Fleur's opinion of this new school went higher and higher as they passed through the vast double doors leading to the Grand Hall where the rest of the student body turned in their seats to observe the oncoming first years. Candles floating above the long bench-like tables shed some light, along with the extravagant ceiling. Over all, the entire place gave off a sense of opulence, and Fleur was feeling increasingly hopeful about the school year to come.

The mass of preteens came to a sudden halt, and Fleur teetered, trying not to trip and take out about a dozen first years with her. The opening ceremonies began, as much as Fleur tried to pay attention, she found her mind slipping elsewhere. She scanned hundreds of head topped with black wizaring caps, lookin for Hermione. She scoured the Gryffindor table, learning about the houses and their corresponding colours from Hermione for the majority of the train ride. The information, admittedly, was rather dull, but Hermione seemed to thoroughly enjoy talking about it, and it kept Ron from joining the conversation so Fleur was pretty content.

"Fleur Delacour? Is there a Fleur Delacour?" Fleur snapped her attention back to reality and hesitantly made her way forward through the crowd, just as she had seen other students do. There was a rather stern looking woman next to hat that reminded her faintly of her old grandfather Pierre. She never liked him.

The hat was placed firmly on her head, and Fleur found its movement on her head disquieting.

"Hmmm, Seventh year are we? Isn't this something new..." The sorting hat's voice was like charcoal, and Fleur didn't know whether to reply or not, so she remained silent.

"Hmmm, Ravenclaw might suit your brains… I doubt you'd be a Hufflepuff. No no, definitely not right… Perhaps Slytherin? I could surely see that… yes…" Fleur remained silent, something about the way the hat hissed it's words almost like a threat kept her tongue in check.

"Perhaps, that's not all I see. Something like a candle, some good. Yes, I can surely see some good. Perhaps we have enough Slytherins for this year. I can see no good coming of it, none indeed… So I declare…. Gryffindor!"

An eruption if cheers exploded from the table closest to her left, and Fleur spotted Hermione easily, being the first one out of her seat to cheer. As Fleur joined her new found friends, she had a slight feeling of comradeship, something she found was not entirely familiar to her. She had little time to bask in the glow, however, as the headmaster took to the podium soon after the sorting had concluded, and silenced the hall with a hush.

"Can I have your attention, please!" Dumbledore's booming voice echoed around the hall, silencing the students instantly.

"As many of you are aware, this year Hogwarts will be hosting the TriWizard Tournament. This competition of wizards take the form of three separate events. However, this tournament does not take place between the students at Hogwarts. So, it is my pleasure to introduce the students from Durmstrang Institute for Boys!" Fleur swivelled in her seat to see the Durmstrang students storm into the great hall. After clapping profusely with the rest of the Hogwarts students, she turned her attention back to Dumbledore at the podium.

"Next, please welcome the lovely ladies from Beauxbatons Academy for Girls!" Fleur stiffened as soon as the words left his mouth. She saw Hermione glance at her out of the corner of her eye. Almost afraid to look, Fleur moved her head robotically to view the parade of French girls march in, in that happy shade of baby blue Fleur knew all too well.

No she thought. It couldn't be. But it was. The Beauxbaton girls strode with their usual haughty confidence, doing an introduction that Fleur herself had been a part of for the longest time. She scanned through the faces, hoping against fate, but knowing that the person she was looking for would be found amongst the crowd.

Icy blue eyes met icy blue eyes, and Fleur felt like ice water had been dumped down her back. She knew that face, and she knew it well.

Jolene Ameritoire...

The girl's eyes narrowed a fragment, and it could have only been Fleur's own paranoia, but Jolene's plastic Beauxbatons smile seemed to falter, if only for a little bit.

Fleur turned to face forwards in her seat, refusing to look at the Beauxbatons anymore. She felt Hermione's eyes on her, the warmth from them seeming to almost burn a hole in her head, but she refused to look at her. She need to just absorb for a moment. And here she was thinking that she could have left that life behind, that she could start anew in England.

It's true. Your past is like a shadow, it doesn't disappear unless you face it, Fleur thought bitterly.

After eating dinner at the huge feast that welcomed the students, Fleur followed the rest of the Gryffindors to the common room. While most students remained in the common room, talking about their summers, Fleur deftly made her way to the dorm rooms, not really wanting to talk much to anyone, least of all these strangers who had known each other for most of their lives.

She started up the stairs, and not for the first time today, she jumped at the sound of a light voice from behind her.

"Fleur...?" Fleur jumped, and whirled around to her Hermione standing behind her on the staircase. Fleur exhaled.

"Mon Dieu 'Ermione. You scared me,"

"Sorry, I thought you heard me walking up the steps…"

"You would zink," Fleur mumbled. "I seem to be a little preoccupied..." Her eyes drifted away to the stone floor. She heard Hermione take a step closer, but her gaze remained fixed.

"Are you all right Fleur? You looked a little out of sorts when the Beauxbaton girls came in," Fleur sniffed, and plastered a smile.

"Moi? Non, eet was simply a shock to see all my old friends," Fleur said breezily.

"Then why aren't you with them now?" Fleur froze.

Who is this girl, damned inspector gadget? Fleur gave in with a sigh.

"I'd raz'er not talk about it, if dat's all right wiz you," Hermione took yet another step closer.

"I thought you trusted me," Hermione said, with a playful smirk. Fleur laughed, and was grateful of the lighter topic of conversation.

"Only because I did not want to stay on zat dirty platform forever," Hermione rolled her eyes, and began walking back down the steps towards the common room.

"Whatever you say Fleur. I'm going to go find Harry and Ron," Fleur bid her a good night, and continued up to the dorms.

"Oh, and by the way, Fleur?" Fleur stopped for the last time that night and met Hermione's chocolate brown eyes.

"If you change your mind and wanna talk, you can actually trust me,"

And with that Hermione left Fleur in the staircase to ponder her words.

So yeah. Now. If anyone knows me, they know I like to ask a question at the end of each chapter because I'm a massive dork (And I really have like, only 4 friends in real life, so I have to pass time somehow) and considering this is a rework, I feel like I have justified means to ask another question. So. This is also my way of coercing more reviews out of my readers cuz imma manipulative jerk/very smart ;)

What is your (YES YOU THE READER) favourite quote from a movie? Like, ever. Even as far back as pokemon (I WANNA BE, THE VERY BEST). Drop me a line, either on here, or on tumblr because I'm lonely. And yeah! 3