Note: I began writing this chapter one night, and the following morning ended up looking like I'd described. It took a little longer to get this up, but it's been a little rough for me for the past couple of days. Good news, though, the Fleurmione tag on tumblr has a lot of traffic and it's exciting. So exciting. And while I'm going on, can anyone confirm or deny the Harry Potter wikia for Fleur and related topics like veela have had more added to it recently? It seems like there's more since I'd last read up on it. Cheers.

The clouds were a long sheet of grey overhead. They looked so far away, somehow bringing the mountains closer. And closer still was the rain that followed no sooner than twelve steps out of the carriage that morning. Fleur kept smiling as she had all morning, as she had all night when she wasn't busy excitedly retelling everything to her roommate between long intakes of breath. The delegation of Beauxbatons was torn between those making light at their predicament and those that were obviously not on a good start to their day, but their shrieking was collective and overall funny enough to make Fleur laugh very audibly.

It became a competition quickly.

Colette elbowed Fleur's side congenially, and before Fleur could even turn her head, the other had her wand drawn and whipping a circle around Fleur and herself. Momentarily, the drops ceased. They collected into a floating pool before Colette dismissed it with a sharp swirl in the direction of another girl's quickly spelled barrier. The water flowed like a spout and slid off the force of the girl's barrier in a translucent curtain. All three were laughing merrily, but joined even the sour-faced French girls in their rapid steps.

The fall increased, and the girls scuttled in heels that were not intended to run up such hills in the rain.

Fleur recognized most of the charms they used, but used none herself. She merely hurried along with the rest of them very alert to holding her school bag close. She heard one cursing that she had forgotten to take an umbrella.

The wind shifted. By the time all of them had reached some cover in the castle, they were all different amounts of soaked. Fleur's left was drier by comparison, but without argument still very wet. A more polite student offered a drying charm once she was done drying her own clothes. Some were taking advantage of Hogwarts students (mostly male) offering their cloak and scarves, better suited than Beauxbatons in that aspect.

Fleur shook out her cloak before replacing it again. It didn't bother her. Colette was speaking with another two girls. The one that had cast the barrier gave Fleur a wave before she took the lead in the direction of the Great Hall. She may have won the unspoken competition.

"They suspect some things," Colette said in a hush, back at Fleur's side. Colette made a face and gestured to her own collar, prompting Fleur to check her own, smoothing it down with the rest of her clothes.

"Things?" Fleur asked. Colette looked like she was trying to hold back a laugh.

"You came late to dinner, and did not come back with us. They hardly believe it when I tell them you were just taking your time."

"I swear you all gossip too much," Fleur chastised, but her grin took most of the seriousness from it. She was taking her time alright, and enjoying it very much.

"They think they are just looking out for their own," Colette shrugged. "If I were a gossip, I'd like to say something more dramatic. But then, what could've happened in half an hour? Not much besides what you told me."

"What did happen. I told you what had happened," Fleur pointed out. Colette sounded as if she herself hardly believed what Fleur told her was it in its entirety.

Anyway, a lot happened, Fleur thought. Colette knew. She was only playing.

"So you said nothing?"

"Why would I say anything?"

"Because you are a gossip."

There were of course some of their lot that were above whispering conspiracies behind each others backs. They were keener, oddly enough. So, when basically everyone noticed – try as Colette did because Fleur was the last to care to distract them from noticing – Fleur's spacing out, some had deciphered what was really going on. In all their years at Beauxbatons together, Fleur was not known to simply stare out into space. And they did not have to be the top student to know that she wasn't going dreamy-eyed over the Gryffindor table's lunch. (No, Fleur was still not impressed by the food. She had made such a point to say so in the beginning.)

Those that figured it out were better than those that speculated. Colette would tell Fleur how off-the-mark they were.

"That is funny," Fleur agreed with Colette, already laughing too hard to say anything more.

They reached the Great Hall between two waves of Beauxbatons scattered with Ravenclaws. There were the occasional yellow, emerald, or crimson robes, but mostly there was mostly blue entering breakfast.

"Yah, and Wood's throwing a fit about it with the professors!" one of the sparse crimson-robed students, a boisterous one, told another boy and consequently anyone within twenty feet.

"Well cancel quidditch and what do you expect? It's that or go mad. Lucky he's not breaking down," the other got in before they wandered down their own table too far to be heard.

Fleur trailed on leisurely, and made no hurry of taking anything particular off the table once she sat down. Overhead, some owls swept low to drop letters and parcels. Fleur was not particularly waiting on anything, so it was a surprise when she heard a familiar hoot – strangely distinguishable, your own owl – among the other chittering birds flying over the Ravenclaw table.

"I never get mail," a nearby student sighed in English when Fleur and a couple others grabbed their stack before it could hit the table. Once too distracted – for the obvious reason – Fleur lost a couple lines off her sister's letter to the murky dark liquid of a dastardly stew she was expected to eat. Another strike against the miserable food. When she had written her next letter to explain it, her sister could not emphasize how funny it was more than by sending straight away a letter that was nothing more than a stick-like drawing of Gabrielle with an arrow and the word laughing.

Fleur decided to comment how Gabrielle's English was getting better. So much that maybe she could visit the other country one day. To which, Gabrielle remarked that Fleur did not make it sound like a good place. She would have to apologize to her parents if she ruined other countries for her sister.

Instead of Gabrielle, the letters she received – one of them scarily thick – were from her mother and father. She knew her father would just want to check in, he did so once or twice monthly. Her mother had much more to say, and Fleur just then realized how long it had been since she'd exchanged mail with her maman.

"How are the Delacours?" Colette asked about halfway through. "Something up?"

"Same, same," Fleur waved off.

"Have you told your mother how you are not eating?" Colette bumped Fleur's arm with every word. "I do not want to carry you to the hospital when you pass out."

"Oh, like you would not just get someone to do it," Fleur dismissed Colette's sarcastic complaint.

"Oh, I could get someone to do it, surely," she looked on the verge of laughing again, so Fleur bumped her arm back and returned to reading with exaggerated movement to take a roll from the table. She bit it rudely in Colette's direction before finally focusing all her attention on her maman's letter.

She managed to finish and get something down before the Beauxbatons left the table to walk their first class. Most Hogwarts students were still eating. Beuxbatons always left comparably early. At first, out of necessity, and now out of habit.

And as for habit, she scanned the second table down and saw Hermione deep in conversation with her red-headed friends. There really were a lot of them on that table.

The rain blew straight into some of the castle's hallway. A particular hallway traveled by the Beaxbatons students could only be walked down in a single file. When the first class ended, some went left and others went right while Fleur stopped to check the sky. Still grey, but she didn't expect it to change. She went left.

She was shivering in her next class, having fully sprinted through a courtyard to arrive on time. She did some minimal work to dry herself, but it was very cold to begin with in this country. She ran through the courtyard again. You would think she would try to avoid it yes, but she did not see the point anymore. As long as she kept the few things she had in her satchel safe from harm, well, a practiced warming charms was still good practice. She could clean up later.

She shook off her cloak again before entering the Great Hall. Some Beauxbatons were obviously disheartened at the dreariness, but the same winner of this morning did not look at all bothered. She was still amongst the driest. Fleur sat next to her, and apologized for the drips of her hat when she placed it on the bench at her side.

Honestly, Fleur wondered what she showed up at lunch for at all. While she was not disgusted with the meal before her (it was a harsh English word, apparently), she still only took a minimal amount and hurried quickly away. Among the red-heads, not a singular brunette worth mentioning.

She had good luck last time in the library, so she searched there. She went up and down the lines of shelves for as long as she could before she could not avoid starting for class again. She ran down a puddled corridor.

And stopped.

She didn't care at this point right? No.

It was a different courtyard, but she ran it much the same in the rain.

" 'ermione,"Fleur smiled brightly, standing front and center of the path the girl was walking. " 'elo."

She honestly didn't notice to what degree she was soaked anymore. The water that ran down her face from the sections of bunching strands of hair, she didn't feel it.

"You're wet," Hermione stated the obvious, as if telling Fleur conversationally that this corridor led to Potions. She was smiling too, though, so Fleur remained without a care.

"Eet is raining," Fleur shrugged in half again, twisting so her legs were crossed. Hermione stopped walking to stand and chat with her. Did she notice how other students were looking? Fleur also stopped noticing those things long ago, or at least pretended to. She couldn't do a thing about it.

"I see," Hermione laughed. Her eyes had the bleariness of awaking from yet another book. If she wasn't in the library, Fleur wondered where she read? Perhaps, one day, Fleur would know. "Have a class?"

"Arizmancy, actually," Fleur's smile calmed itself. "I should go, yes?"

"You should tell me about it later," Hermione suggested. "An hour before dinner, outside the library."

Another trip to the library was not too much to ask.

"I look forward to eet, Madamoiselle Granger," Fleur made an informal bow of her head and began again to go to class reluctantly.

She turned to look over her shoulder and caught Hermione doing exactly the same. Never had she prayed classes to move faster than then, but she tried really, really hard in Arithmancy at least.

When last class was finally dismissed, Fleur realized she still had over three hours to bide.

"Are you even listening to me?" Colette asked like she was surprised.

"Non," Fleur shook her head.

"-Ah. Well. If you've spoken with her today, then I will excuse it," Colette smiled, "So tell me you've spoken at least? I swear I'm stepping in if you decide to put it off for another month."

"I cannot put it off for another three hours!" Fleur tipped her head back with a groan.

"Excellent, excellent, this is progress, yeah?" Colette encouraged her. "Agonize. It is hilarious."

Fleur backhanded Colette in the stomach.

"I will throw you into a puddle," Colette threatened.

"I will turn you into a puddle," Fleur countered.

Colette blew air indignantly.

"Some high marks and you are full of yourself, but this girl makes you forget yourself. I say, she is life's way of evening your odds. Cast a charm."

They were at the corridor's edge, about to make a break for the carriages. Fewer bothered to go back at all, but Colette for one did not spend a lot of time in the castle without reason, and Fleur needed a distraction from her distraction.

Fleur sighed the incantation, and similar to Colette's that morning, she gathered the rain collecting overhead with the tip of her wand. Once in a while, she swirled her hand and tipped some water out of range, and the two remained mostly dry... Or, at least, they did not get any more soaked. Colette gave her ear a fine time addressing that matter. When they were back in their room, Fleur set her things down on her desk and discarded her cloak.

Colette snagged Fleur's unread magazine from where it spilled out of her bag without formally asking. It wasn't like Fleur had the drive to read it herself soon, and it was not like she had not let Colette do so before. She flipped a couple of pages in and sat in her chair before hearing a sudden drop and ripping herself away from the pages.

Fleur was face first in her bed, and Colette was about to worry if not for the groan she let out that Colette recognized as frustration, again. She went back to browsing. After a while, two pages, Colette finally spoke, "Should I ask?"

"Eet is nozing," Fleur responded in English. How peculiar.

Hermione traded books in her bag for books in her drawer before remembering her plans for later, a momentary slip. She put things in their place, and left them where they were. She then exited the room, and only stopped on her way down when Parvati asked her if she would be back in the room before dinner. She answered no as a matter of fact, and was not questioned. It wasn't unlike Hermione at all.

In the common room, Harry, Ron and Ginny occupied an alcove. Harry expected her to join in, but seeing as Hermione knew exactly what they were talking about and had put in all she cared to say about the matter that morning with in short: I have no idea why, she waved thinking none of them would miss her. Harry waved back. Ron waved frantically, but not for Hermione.

In the library, she sat just looking at the book shelves for a good long two minutes. And every five or so minute interval, she would crane her neck to see the ancient clock above Madam Pince's check out table.

Hermione could do for a bit of light reading. That's what she came for, wasn't it?

She went around two shelves, made a left, and on the fourth level up, nudged a tome out with her fingertips before it could be pried away from between the ones at its side.

She came here to read, and that is why she requested to meet Fleur only an hour before dinner, not because she was afraid she'd bore the other with any time more than that, no.

Well, what would they do?

The stroll the night before was on yet another non-thought-through whim, to get just a little out of the way. Maybe they could do that again?

It was still raining out, she could see that through the fog on the window. Hermione could show Fleur on a dry path.

Hermione laughed.

It was kind of silly how Fleur showed up out of nowhere, not that Hermione did not appreciate it. It was cute. It was...

The laugh ended, but a grin no less silly remained. Blue silk... silk shrinks doesn't it? Hermione wondered about that.

Fantasies can take a while. It could take a minute. Every time it took a minute, Hermione would check the clock again, and every time it took a while, she'd forget. And when she'd finally waited long enough, without being very much productive at all, Hermione made a great effort out of walking to the door. It would take only a minute. She paced it like she had an hour. Somehow, she was still only a bit early. And somehow, Fleur was also.

Also, Fleur was still dripping with rain on her blue silk uniform. Small drops slid down her skin, casually. It was like she didn't notice, and Hermione started giggling immediately.

"Hello there," she managed to say.

"Bonjour," Fleur smiled. She said something else in French, Hermione didn't catch it. "Excuse me."

Fleur drew back her arm and from nowhere it seemed, there was her wand. She clutched it with a refined manner, a delicate grip that was deceivingly steady.

Hermione did not see Fleur's lips move (and she was very much watching for it), but from the tip of her wand, a barely noticeable vortex blurred the air. Hermione could sense the heat. Fleur pulled slightly on the fabric of her dress as she swept her wand along it, with a few inches of distance. Fleur's clothes were dry in no time. That was a simple charm, surely? It was in this sort of moment that Hermione recalled Fleur was a seventh year. Apparently, top of her school year. But you know, you think that would keep her from running around in the rain. She laughed again.

"I should 'ave done zis before arriving, but I 'ad zought I 'ad anozer fifteen minutes."

"Yes. Fifteen minutes early, but we're both here," Hermione noted.

"Yes, the both of us," Fleur shook her head slightly, "And wat are we going to do for ze next 'our and zese fifteen minutes? You know?"

"Do you think you could teach me the patronus in an hour and fifteen minutes?" Hermione said jokingly.

"Oh, to zat you go? 'ere I was under ze impression you wished to see me," Fleur tried her best to look disappointed. A French veela disappointment didn't quite look like disappointment. Maybe it was the magic, or the simply regal look that Fleur pulled off so well, so effortlessly, that was really could convince a person they were just about to turn away and walk without care. It almost, almost, made Hermione feel bad.

"Believe me, I'd be watching very closely, Fleur," she came back with a smirk.

"You are a very dedicated learner, yes?"

"Very dedicated," Hermione assured her. Fleur nodded.

"Still," Fleur dragged. It sounded like steel and Fleur bit the insides of her lips.

"I am very distracted. I will teach you, but not now, later."

"Later, then."

An hour and ten minutes.

Fleur held out her upturned hand tentatively, far enough for Hermione to understand it without making too much of a show of it.

Her hands were by then dry but still very icy, and Hermione's set her skin on fire in the most adoring way, a small and gentle way that lit her up and swallowed the concerns that followed it. Fleur was really trying to make this a normal thing. And it was normal, in a sense, because back home it was not unusual for the students to drag each other around by the hand, to hold hands casually was a thing, you really did not think too much into it. However, it was very much not normal. Not a person came to mind other than Hermione that Fleur wanted this from. Please happen more, she wanted, but if she got used to it, she hoped not to lose what it was now. It was very simple and special.

She was making a lot of this.

Fleur felt a blush working itself up, but another familiar burn killed that quickly. They had better move.

"Zer are students zat wish to use the library, I zink," Fleur rolled her eyes over a gaggle of boys congesting in the hall adjacent to the entrance they were blocking.

There was a wide gap, she really was kidding herself with that, she knew those boys had no intention of studying anything they'd find in Hogwart's library. (Fleur was standing ouside.)

"Oh," Hermione made to sound disappointed as Fleur had made it look, but she could not mislead so easily, "And here I thought you wanted to hold my hand."

"I did not say ozerwise," Fleur straightened, "You like facts? I give you two: One, we should move. Also, I am still holding your 'and."

She still pronounced steel.

Hermione did not say anything to that, but that didn't mean she wasn't thinking about it, feeling it. And all the while, she walked along with Fleur until it was clear that nobody was really leading. She then took command of that and with only a gentle squeeze as a warning, guided Fleur to the right where they would otherwise continue forward.

"So, how much of the castle have you seen?"

"Enough to get around," Fleur answered.

"That's not enough of the castle," Hermione decided. "Especially if you can't find a decent cover in the rain."

"I like the rain," Fleur said defensively.

"Do you? Really?" Hermione asked suspiciously.

There was a pause, which in itself answered Hermione, but Fleur went ahead and vocalized it.

"Non. I do not like ze English rain," Fleur sighed. She wrinkled her nose regrettably at the truth.

"And yet you're still running through it," Hermione said mostly to herself. "You still don't very much like it here huh?"

"Eet gets better," Fleur shrugged.

"Yes," Hermione emphasized, thinking Fleur only said it as a consolation. "It gets better."

She said it with conviction, a decision. "I'm going to show you."

Throughout Fleur's grand tour of the inner hallways of Hogwarts, the ones that circulate the castle without getting drenched by the downpour, a third fact occurred to Fleur (as if it were not obvious, as if she were just figuring it out, as if running across the courtyard in the rain just to say hello was a completely normal thing). One: She and Hermione were moving along. Two: They were still holding hands. Three: She didn't like the rain, but she liked Hermione.