AU Fleur is not Beauxbatons Champion, or present at Hogwarts with the Beauxbatons Delegation
"Ugh."
Music blared from within the great hall, muffled by distance and magic. laughter and clinking of plates chorused it, giving off a jolliness to the crisp air that I could really do without.
The night had, so far, been a disaster, and the chances of it getting any better were frankly next to non-existent. My ears burned as Padma's face came into my mind.
"God."
I had never seen anyone seen so bored, and so embarrassed. I covered my eyes with a hand. My glasses poked at my nose. It did nothing to dispel the image.
I really had wanted to- to- do something. She kept looking around as I wracked my brains, and I knew that look. I did it myself often enough.
She was looking for an exit.
I laughed and let my hand fall from my face. I mostly did it when trying to escape mad murderers, so that showed how enjoyable my company was.
But then again, maybe I should at least apologise? I shifted in my seat.
"Hey Padma! Sorry I was an arshole before, I learnt to socialise with the spiders in my cupboard. scof Yeah, that will go over wonderfully."
I sighed. Welp, it sure beat sitting here.
"How dare you! How very DARE YOU!"
Oh no. I knew that voice.
"I dare! If you were not such a coward and had just asked him yoursel-"
And that one too, I cringed.
"I told you that in-"
"It was too late! And now you are ruining everything!"
Hermione's voice cracked, and i started shoving my way past the crowd faster. I reached the centre of the confrontation just in time to watch Hermione storm away in tears, while Ron did likewise, but cursing, leaving a very confused Viktor Krum standing on the corner of the drinks table.
"What in the..."
I shook my head. Looks like Padma is gonna have to go without an apology for today.
The whole of my intentions in that moment was, and I swear it to everything I hold dear, to get to Krum and find out what happened, but the crowd had been sniggering and speaking in not so hushed tones, and words I could hear spoken about my friends....
Well, her derisive snort was the strand that broke the camel's back.
I stopped in my tracks, almost directly in front of Krum, who straightened in response, and turned my head towards it.
Towards her.
How dare she? How dare she stand there all- all- like that! In her gossamer dress, all dignified, hiding her scrunched lips behind a glass of wine.
I stomped my way towards her.
"I suppose this is all so very funny to you? Do you think that you are better than them? cause I can assure you that never in ten thousand years will anyone ever be-"
I stumbled back from my anger, getting cross eyed at the glass suddenly trusted into my face.
"What-"
"Drink it." She asked.
The way her eyes stared from the rim of it looked far too commanding.
"I am fourteen." I said as I took it.
"And I'm seventeen. Anything else you'd like to add?
"No. Well, I mean-"
She rose her eyebrows. I drank. It was disgusting.
"I gather those were your friends?"
I nodded.
"Hhhm." She took a sip and looked towards the empty stand. "It's nice of you to defend them, but they could really 'ave found a more private place for their little lover's quarrel."
"They aren't!-"
Her eyebrows rose again, this time accompanied, ever so slightly, by the corner of her lips.
I took another sip just to hide my grumbling into the glass.
"I suppose you know my name, and I know your friend's after that back there. I do not know yours though." She said.
"Oh. I'm Harry." I tussled my hair. "err, not to be rude, but I really do not know who you are."
She stared at me for a second. Then two. it was starting to get uncomfortable.
"Delacour." She stated. "Fleur Delacour."
She stood straighter poised defensively, as she offered her hand.
"It is... nice to meet you, Fleur Delacour." Even to my ears that did not sound sincere. At all.
Her hand was incredibly warm.
"You really do not know me."
"No? Sorry, should I?"
Was she some official from the Tournament or-
"I 'ave been singing here for the last two hours."
"Oh, OH!" I laughed. "Sorry. I was not paying attention, what with the dance ad all."
The lights on the stage had shined so bright that I could not have seen her had I cared to try.
She shook her head, her hair waving at the movement. And she smiled. Quickly, frugally. I almost didn't catch it.
"Let us do this again. 'ello, it is a pleasure to meet you. I am Fleur Delacour."
"Harry. Harry Potter, and likewise a pleasure."
She snorted, her lips curling up. “And I’m Albus Dumbledore.” Her giggles sounded like birds chirping. She must really be a good singer.
“I am not joking. I literally was introduced at the beginning of the ball. For the Dance? With Padma. I mean, My dance partner.”
She stared at me again in that same almost unnaturally still way she did before.
I squirmed. Yes, I am not proud of it.
Her smile was as blinding as the lights of the stage had been. And the sound of her laughter… She picked up another glass. I had not noticed her finish the previous one. Or any of the three empty ones on the table.
“It really is nice to meet you then, monsieur.”
“Why, cause I am famous too?” I crossed my arms.
“Oui.”
That conceited little-
“Excus-“
“Only people like us understand the struggle. It is nice to meet someone that is so… grounded.”
“Oh.” “You do keep saying that.”
I blushed. Severely. And no, I am not proud of that either.
She looked around, which made me remember Padma doing the same a little before. The gesture, however, could not have been more different.
The way her silver eyebrows dropped, opposite her sunshine lips…
“The... the shows over. I was not expecting to stay much more. Not in the mood for signing autographs.”
“Oh.”
She smiled again, and this time I did too.
“It was a pleasure, Monsieur Potter.”
“Harry.”
“It was a pleasure, ‘Arry.”
“Likewise,” I almost whispered.
My gaze followed her as she got out of the room, swirling around the mass of flailing bodies. My eyes were not the only ones following her.
There was a huge, white eagle on my bed.
It looked at me as I approached, staring, still as a marble statue.
Whatever she was looking for, she seemed satisfied, for with a quiet chirp, it jumped out the window and into the night.
“What in the…”
I looked towards the bed. It had left a letter.
I looked around. No one else was here yet, unsurprisingly. I saw no point on staying any longer at the ball after my friends had left, my responsibility was fulfilled, my date had found another partner, and… And my new acquaintance had gone.
The paper was crisp and a pretty off-white colour, sealed with a fancy bird wax seal.
I opened as I let myself fall into the bed, and could not help but smile at the first thing that caught my eye.
The huge, flowery signature at the bottom.
Monsieur Potter,
I was not planning to use the open invitation to watch the tournament, but now I look forward to seeing you win the second task of it in person.
Cordially, Fleur Delacour
Sleep came much later than normally would have, chased away by smiles and the scent of cinnamon.