Disclaimer: I was going to give an example of social influence as, "The majority of authors on conform to the idea of wanting to own Harry Potter" … but I decided that my Psychology class would just laugh.

Through A Tinted Veil

Chapter V – Green

Previously:

She closed her eyes as Roger leaned down to her, catching her lips in a kiss. He kissed as expertly as he danced and it was Fleur that regretfully broke away to breathe. Her eyes fluttered open again, though now there was something haunting about the sinister green lingering around the leaves surrounding them. Fleur ignored it, content in Roger's protective embrace to lean up for another kiss.

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To Fleur's dismay, most of her time after the Yule Ball was spent in the Beauxbatons' carriage trying to work out the strange wailing sounds that the egg emitted when anyone opened it. After the excitement of the dance, the Beauxbaton's students had been gloating to one another about the superiority of their school's magnificence, and the spiteful competitiveness had somewhat lessened. Of course, this might have been something to do with the international friendships made through the occasion, though the theory was not uttered aloud.

Even Fleur had to admit privately to herself that she was missing Roger's company. However, the less time her mind spent lingering on the handsome Ravenclaw, the more time there was for sitting with her fellow students attempting to work out the egg's message.

"C'est impossible!" One of the girls said hopelessly, offering the egg back to Fleur. They sat dejectedly in a circle, trying not to give up hope. Their ears were hurting from the loud screeching, and no matter what they tried, nothing seemed to work.

Madame Maxime walked past her students on her way out of the carriage, giving them an encouraging smile. She paused to reassure her students that she was sure inspiration would strike soon, before resuming her path to the door. As her heel turned, there was a clink of glass and the pitcher of water sitting beside the girls clattered over, splashing water over them. Fleur dropped the egg as the girls scrambled to stand up so as not to touch the cold water.

The egg opened on the floor and as the students made to cover their ears, a gurgling sound came out of the egg. The girls looked around each other in confusion, but one of them reached for her wand. With a whisper of "Augamenti." Water began to pour from the tip into the open egg. The indecipherable gurgling cleared as the egg became full of water. The tint to Fleur's vision wavered smugly as though in a heat wave as a song began to emerge from the murmuring. The girls stilled at once as they all listened intently,

"Come seek us where our voices sound,

We cannot sing above the ground,

And while you're searching, ponder this:

We've taken what you'll sorely miss,

An hour long you'll have to look,

And to recover what we took,

But past an hour – the prospect's black

Too late, it's gone, it won't come back."

Avid discussion broke out from beaming girls that crowded around Fleur to puzzle out the mystery. She acted as though she was ecstatic, but a sinking feeling in her stomach told her that the sinister green had not felt smug for nothing.

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Although content with the knowledge that she had made considerable progress with the Second Task preparation, if asked, Fleur would agree with the rest of the Beauxbatons students that the actual practicalities of remaining under water for an hour were not likely to be figured out by accident. However, she had spent the better part of the morning after breakfast with Roger. She had met the timid Sophia, who seemed in awe of her older brother, and she had talked with Roger alone after Sophia had gone off with her friends. He had described his summer last year when he had accompanied his uncle to Egypt on Ministry Business acting as a tour guide whilst really keeping the muggle tourists safe from curses placed by the Ancient Egyptians whilst they explored some of the pyramids.

When she had asked about his Quidditch playing, Roger had joked that Viktor Krum would be able to give her more spectacular stories than he would. He seemed genuinely surprised when she replied that she would not care for them, and that she would rather hear his opinion over Krum's anyway. Roger did not seem to understand why, and in return Fleur had told him a little more about her childhood and life back home. She had had an almost celebrity status at home, so she knew how empty the position was. She explained that because she was so well known, she had not really got a real view of the world as she had been sheltered because of who she was. It was a novelty for her that Roger treated her like he did, and was prepared to talk with her like any other young witch.

So after spending a thoroughly enjoyable morning with Roger, it was with regret that Fleur left the warmth of Hogwarts across the cold grounds to the Beauxbatons carriage. He had offered to walk her back, but she politely declined, as she saw no point in them both getting cold. He had laughed and wrapped his cloak around her shoulders, and stood at the old oak doors of the castle watching her, despite her shooing hand movements for him to get inside, until she had climbed the steps into her carriage.

She drifted towards her friends in an almost daze, unconsciously stroking the soft Hogwarts crest on Roger's cloak.

"Fleur?" A voice called, "Fleur?" A little louder … she blinked as a beautifully manicured hand waved in front of her face. She looked up to see a small group of her friends around her on the soft carpeting scattered with cushions that made up a little living room. She smiled sheepishly as she realised they had been trying to talk to her.

"It eez like you were in a leetle bulle of your own!" One of the girl exclaimed as the others laughed gently.

"Désolé," she apologized, "I was thinking about my morning avec Roger." She joined in their laughter. As it died down one of the girls gasped suddenly and put her hand to her mouth, "What eez eet?" Fleur asked her.

"Zat eez eet!" She smiled around, though some of the girls swapped confused looks with each other, "Ze bubble-'ead charm! Zat is 'ow you can stay under ze water!"

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As she stepped near the freezing cold water of the icy lake, Fleur stared down into the murky depths. Looking back at her reflection gazing up at her, she suddenly had a sneaking suspicion that she knew what the judges were going to take. Gabrielle hated water. She couldn't swim at all. She had been scared of water ever since she fell off the side of their boat whilst sailing in France. How Fleur wished she had been quiet about Gabrielle – then they would not have thought to take her! She steeled herself to do her school proud. Worrying would do no good. It might not be Gabrielle, there was no guarantee…

That Bagman wizard was talking to the crowd in his magically enhanced voice.

"Well, all our champions are ready for the second task, which will start on my whistle. They have precisely an hour to recover what has been taken from them. On the count of three, then. One…" Her breathing was getting faster, "Two…" She shut her eyes, trying to calm herself down, "Three!" Fleur dived gracefully into the lake and performed her charm perfectly. She laughed to herself before turned to look at her surroundings. She was sure that the mer-people would be hiding right at the bottom of the lake.

Fleur swam deeper and deeper, her heart racing, pushing past tangled strands of slimy weeds, grey stones snatching on her hair, cutting her arms as she pushed them away. The plants were coated in mud, and she came to a stretching forest of them, almost opaque. The lake was surrounded in an eerie silence apart from a faint rootless song that she recognised from the egg drifting through the clumps of weeds. There was no way around it – she would have to go through the dark green mist of plants. She felt something was wrong, an oppressive feeling of ominous foreboding.

As Fleur managed to make her way into the meadow of weeds and logs, she felt a webbed hand grasp her ankle firmly; she turned around and saw a water demon with horns smirking evilly at her, bearing its fangs. She tried to cast aside its horrible pale green face and recall her Defence Against the Dark Arts lessons. Grindylows had long fingers and had a strong grip, but their fingers were easy to break.

Reaching down to grab the first Grindylow, she grabbed its hand, but a second came up behind her to pull her back. They snatched at her as she cried out, not able to reach her wand as they held her back, dragging her away, further and further from where she knew she was.

She would be lost forever; no-one would ever find her. She would drown! Oh now she understood Gabrielle's fear of water. It was horrible – these creatures were taking her away, she would never see her friends and family again, she would never get married or have children or have a future! Tears dissolved into the bubble around her, which also took on a murky emerald hue.

Those haunting words came back to her,

"But past an hour – the prospect's black

Too late, it's gone, it won't come back."

Oh Gabrielle! Now she was lost forever, and it was all because of Fleur. She didn't deserve to be champion, she wasn't the best. Why did she think she could do this? She had let everyone down and now Gabrielle would drown because of it. She would die of her worst ever fear, the fear Fleur had always assured her she would never let happen. And now it was all her fault! Red sparks flew out of her wand in anger.

Fleur was so distressed she hardly noticed that the Grindylows had changed their course and were dragging her up towards the surface. They threw her up out of the water, breaking her charm as she coughed and spluttered. A gasp echoed around the stands as a team of wizards standing by rescued her from the water, her body choking and shaking with sorrow.

Madame Maxime rushed to meet her with a fluffy towel as a ring of gossip murmured around the crowd. A few of her closer friends shielded her body from the gawking view of onlookers as she fought Madame Maxime's strong grip to return to the water. She was firmly held down as a motherly matron held her chin to force a steaming liquid down her throat that she recognised as Pepper up Potion. There was a slightly strange taste to it and Fleur felt a feeling of calm infuse into her along with the warmth.

She halted her struggles for a moment, but refused to leave the side, disregarding the advice and stares of thousands of eyes. "It was ze Grindylows - zey captured me," she choked despondently, "I could not break zem – zer was too many."

Sympathetic friends shushed her with words of comfort and assured her that it did not matter. She had been chosen as the best of them, so they could have done no better. Madame Maxime still kept her grip on Fleur as her eyes stayed fixed to the water, waiting for the winning champion to return to tell her if Gabrielle was still down there. Would the mer-people bring her up? Or would they eat her alive?

Fleur let out a whimper as she waited agonisingly for the surface of the ghostly green water to break once more, a ripple of excitement thronging around the stands as they discussed the possibilities of the outcome.

I hope you have enjoyed this chapter. Reviews would be greatly appreciated.

I know it has been far too long since I have updated, but I hope you don't all hate me for it. The last few weeks have caused quite a reduction in my confidence, so if you do have anything positive to say, please, I would really like to hear it.

Love,

x Imperial Princess x