Authors Note: Okay so this was a beast of a chapter to write. I hope I am not boring everyone to tears - sometimes I wish I was faster. Fingers crossed that you enjoy this installment and know that next up is the first challenge and the consequences of it.

To the reviewers who are continuing to give me such support THANK YOU! Recently received my first Spanish reviews so, in the spirit of international communication, MUCHAS GRACIAS!

The knocking on the door was never ending. Despite her silence, despite her lack of response the knocking continued. Sometimes quicker, slower, louder and at times faint enough to hardly be heard at all. It was rather rude… and impetuous of him but Etienne refused to be ignored. He had sat, in silence, all through dinner, and afterward silently followed her from the hall. Questions from other members of staff and even a quick inquiry from a third year all went unheeded as Fleur had swept from the Great Hall. Silent and cool.

He had glimpsed Hermione's reaction but hadn't the time nor the space to study it further. Rushing after Fleur had been his only option. Her pace hadn't stuttered once, the whole way to her apartments was one constant silent march punctuated only by her broad oak door closing in his face. This same door that he had been pounding on for the past fifteen minutes. Etienne wasn't sure he could feel his fingers anymore. Switching to his left hand he finally resorted to tapping out popular tunes to fend off the boredom that threatened to have him surrender and retire to his own apartments.

Halfway through his rendition of 'La vie en Rose' the door flew open. Smirking at the empty doorway he stepped into the living quarters, closing the door behind him.

"Really Etienne… Edith Piaf?"

The question had none of the usual playful quality to it. Monotone and bland it encouraged no response. He could barely see her, half hidden by the highback leather chair she lounged in.

"I think it's rather fitting for this occasion. Seeing as you cannot seem to begin anything and your gloomy mood is rather Piaf like!"

Dropping rather grandly onto the couch beside Fleur Etienne lay back, enjoying the crackling fire that bathed the whole room in a warm glow.

"Come Fleur, I want to know everything! All the gloom, the doom, the…"

"Etienne I 'ave no time for your games! I do not want to talk!"

Fleur seldom resorted to raising her voice; even with her students she remained imperturbable. Her quiet contempt and sharp remarks were enough to keep anyone in check. Immediately Etienne dropped the goading tactic that had so often worked in the past and studied the furious woman before him.

"Je suis désolé," sitting up he leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "You are angry… why?"

All at once it seemed the fight that had been brewing fled the room. Fleur deflated and slumped back into the chair she had almost jumped from. Resting her head in the palm of her hand, she turned from the concerned gaze of Etienne to the flames that crackled and spit in the hearth.

"Oui I am angry, I am upset, I am frustrated… I cannot do anything right…"

Her voice steadily rose with each statement until Fleur couldn't speak anymore. Licking her lips she swallowed back the tears that were welling. This was absurd. Nobody had died and yet she found herself almost inconsolable over a tiny thing. A tiny thing… an inconsequential… miniscule…thing.

"'as this anything to do with 'ermione?" Etienne questioned softly, knowing the answer already.

Fleur didn't even look in his direction but merely nodded to herself. Sighing she buried her face in her palms, dragging strands of silver and blonde back from her face.

"Ah Etienne, everything 'as to do with 'er. From now on, everything will be about 'er."

Smiling sadly at the non-revelation Fleur peered at her companion. He had never heard Fleur sound so resigned. She spoke as if it were a life sentence, one she could not escape.

"Fleur, why so sad? You and I both know that you knew this… what 'appened?"

Laughing miserably at herself she had to agree with Etienne. Of course she had known that Hermione was her everything, ever since she had tended to her in Shell Cottage. This was no surprise to her. She had pined after that girl for years… pined and hoped.

"I think Etienne I am losing 'ope."

His frown was all the answer she needed.

"Before… before I could dream. I could imagine this life with 'er. A life that we would share. Now she is 'ere, everyday is a reminder that we do not share this dream. That she does not think of me in that way. That… I … That I am alone… alone with a dream."

Barely able to speak Fleur desperately wiped at the tears that had begun to flow down her cheeks. Breathing quickly she couldn't seem to stem the feelings that poured from her. Without warning Etienne stood from the couch and wrapped her up in his embrace. The soft velvet of his cloak was comforting as were the words he whispered into her hair.

"Fleur it may be a dream but it can come true. I see it everyday. She looks at you Fleur," pulling back to wipe his friend's cheek Etienne made sure she was listening to him. "She looks at you. Every chance she gets. You are all she sees. I am telling you it might be your dream now but it will be both of yours very soon. You just 'ave to be patient."

Fleur turned from the compassionate eyes that were emploring her to listen and buried her face once again in the soft folds of blue velvet. Her muffled reply broke his heart.

"I do not know if I 'ave the time or the 'eart to be patient for much longer."

Hermione was furious with herself. Fleur hadn't even waited after dinner. Usually the blonde witch was more than happy to chat after food but as soon as the desserts had been finished and the bubble of conversation begun Fleur had left. Etienne following immediately afterward. There was nothing to do but return to her carriage and ruminate on the disaster that had been her conversation with Fleur.

Pacing in her room Hermione couldn't believe she had said those asinine things! Why didn't I just confess! It's Fleur! She wouldn't care whether I was mentoring Nathan. She was mentored herself for God's sake! Resisting the urge to scream into her pillow was difficult. Managing to not run after Fleur with apologies pouring from her mouth had been almost impossible. Only for Draco's unrelenting questions regarding their attendance at the ball tomorrow evening she would have chased the French witch.

Of course Fleur's departure had not gone unnoticed by Draco.

"Where's Delacour off to in such a hurry?"

The break from questions regarding the ball caught Hermione's attention. She had been tracking Fleur's departure diligently up until then.

"I don't know," she whispered.

"These French… honestly… dramatic, the whole lot of them. There goes that Guerin fellow after her. I swear there's something going on there Granger. Mark my words."

Spinning in her seat Hermione glared at Draco.

"There is nothing going on there Malfoy. Keep your opinions to yourself!"

Draco smirked at her, as if pleased she had given out to him.

"Alright Granger… alright… no need to get your knickers in a twist!"

Huffing at the response Hermione poured herself some tea, hoping it would help calm her nerves. Adding a spoon of sugar she stirred her beverage thoroughly, hoping against hope that a little glucose would help her addled brain think.

"Right so I have the perfect tie and handkerchief set sorted. You know to wear your hair up. I'll make sure I get you up close and personal with our little friend and after we have weaselled all we can out of the chump you can apologise to Delacour for whatever you did."

"Tie?"

"Yes, Granger. A tie."

Thinking about it now she shouldn't have been surprised that Draco had noticed her and Fleur's discord. The man was a born and bred politician. Any sign of weakness or exploitable sore spot and he was on it like a vulture on carrion. The strange thing was he hadn't been as nasty as he could have been. In fact she was rather suspicious of the lack of jeering regarding her friendship with Fleur.

Changing into her sleepwear Hermione kept running through her conversation with the French professor. Fleur had asked Hermione to the ball, she had come up with a terrible excuse, she had continued to give terrible excuses, Fleur had been angry with her because… she was attending the ball with Malfoy… Hermione was missing something. She was sure of it.

Why would Fleur be upset with her? Attending the ball with Malfoy was in no way romantic. Hadn't she been clear in her dislike of the man? Granted they had been friendlier of late but that was out of necessity. Draco was in no way, shape or form a person she would consider a romantic liaison with… but why would that annoy Fleur? Surely she knew that Hermione was smart enough to recognise a bad deal…

These thoughts occupied her mind, right through her dental care routine until her head hit the pillow. She still hadn't managed to reason out Fleur's rage with her. There is nothing for it, I will have to find her tomorrow and explain myself properly. Plans ricocheted round her head until finally she fell asleep.

The morning of the ball dawned bright and clear. For most of the people residing on the campus of Beauxbaton it was a day of excitement and joy. Students bustled here and there, whispering about the arrivals that were sure to make their appearance that afternoon. Rumours were rife that Professor Granger and Mr. Malfoy were attending the ball together… the Hogwarts students were more than happy to inform their peers of the few interactions they had witnessed between the two adults. Similarly the Beauxbaton pupils were delightedly discussing the various French celebrities that would be present and made sure that the students from the other schools were caught up with all the gossip that entailed.

Personally Draco was in his element. This kind of publicity and event were the very reason he got into his current career! The opportunity to have a say and make a difference in his world was one of the few things he and his father had agreed on. Strategising with Granger yesterday was an absolute waste of time. The woman was completely distracted, not that that was unusual but it was nearly impossible to get a sensible answer from her after Delacour had left the hall. Still she really didn't have to do much this evening except look pretty and dazzle their prey.

Smirking Draco sipped from his lukewarm coffee. The L'Express Magique was more than aware of who would be attending this evening's event; he and Granger were even mentioned. Flipping through the paper he scanned for any interesting tidbits that might give him the upper hand. Nothing of great import was mentioned beyond the attendees and the fact that the paper had exclusive access… access that Draco was determined to make work in his favour.

"Monsieur Malfoy! Comment vas tu?"

Rolling his eyes, Draco paused to close his newspaper before answering.

"Quite well, Mr. Guerin. Simply reading up on tonight's festivities."

Etienne, undeterred by the cool response, decided to take the opportunity on offer and sat beside the blonde. Pouring a glass of pumpkin juice, Etienne tried to appear calm at this fortuitous turn of events.

"Is there anything of actual interest in that?" he asked, nodding at the paper in front of the blonde beside him.

"Unfortunately, no. I already knew most of the attendees tonight. The paper shall be there to cover it of course."

"Ah, idéal. Madame Maxime shall be over the moon… is that 'ow you say it?"

Draco smiled tightly at the overenthusiastic Frenchman, "Yes. I see Mademoiselle Delacour is not with you?"

Etienne briefly stopped buttering his toast before choosing a spread to go with it.

"Yes, Fleur is not feeling particularly well this morning."

"She will attend the ball this evening?"

"Bien sûr…" Etienne sipped at his juice, eyeing his companion carefully. "Even if she were unwell she would attend this evening."

Draco finished his coffee, it seemed as though the Frenchman was daring him to ask why. Curiosity killed the cat…

"I suppose she is very diligent in her work. I look forward to this evening, please pass on to Ms. Delacour my best wishes for her health."

Grabbing his newspaper, Draco stood in one swift movement and nodded before leaving the breakfast table. Etienne was more than content to watch him go. It wasn't often he was able to.

Hermione was completely flustered. She had spent the day trying to find Fleur only to come up empty. The French witch was nowhere to be found. Every time she had gotten near the classes Fleur was supposed to be teaching there was a substitute; any flash of blonde hair was a student. In fact the French professor was simply gone. This hadn't happened since she had arrived. If anything Fleur was an almost constant presence. Etienne was of no use either. He had simply shrugged off most of her enquiries with a simple 'Ah I 'ave not see 'er since yesterday evening.'

Thus Hermione found herself dressed and anxiously waiting for Draco Malfoy in the Hogwarts Express. Breathing deeply she dropped the tissue she had been worrying between her hands and checked her handbag for the umpteenth time. Satisfied she could do no more Hermione took a final glance at her compartment before closing the door and moving toward the common cart.

Trying to appear more confident than she felt Hermione ignored the young faces peeking out from the student accommodation as she passed. Thankfully the common cart housed only a few older students and the Headmistress, who looked resplendent in emerald green. Disregarding the increased whispers that marked her arrival, Hermione made her way over to the older professor.

"Ah Hermione, you look splendid this evening."

"As do you Minerva. It really is your colour, emerald."

The older witch smiled congenially. Placing her teacup before her, neatly into its saucer.

"The old reliable dear. Black, emerald and I have a long history. What shade is that magnificent dress?"

Leaning forward Minerva held a piece of the fabric between her fingers; against her pale skin it looked an even deeper shade.

"Merlin, I'm not sure… it was burnt…something. Burnt… umber I think?"

Minerva smiled, "Well a most fitting tribute to your Hogwarts House without using that awful red."

Hermione laughed quietly. Without really thinking about it she had highlighted her Griffyndor heritage. The floor length gown was beautiful but it had taking a bit of convincing, from her mother of all people, that she should get it. The lace sleeves hid her scars and the deep v neck didn't expose her anymore than she was comfortable with. With her hair pinned back in a loose chignon Hermione hadn't had much to do to get ready for the evening ahead.

"Mr. Malfoy is meeting you here I presume?"

"Yes, Draco said he would collect me here. You'll join us won't you?"

Hermione hadn't even thought to ask before but now it seemed rather obvious. McGonagall smiled conspiratorially at the young professor, enjoying the awkwardness Hermione was feeling.

"No, no my dear. I wouldn't dare encroach on your evening with Mr. Malfoy. No… besides I have my own company."

Hermione quirked an eyebrow at her mentor, "You never mentioned anything all week…"

"Well… there isn't much to say. Monsieur Leon was in need of some company and I was happy to oblige… must remain on friendly terms with our French colleagues."

"Yes, of course," Hermione grinned cheekily. "All in the name of international magical relations."

The elder witch simply sipped at her tea rather than reply. The ladies were not alone for long. Monsieur Leon had arrived with plenty of time to spare. Despite her headmistresses protestations Hermione had insisted that they go on ahead. Sitting in the cart with the few nosy senior students, who had remained to see her off, Hermione gazed at the castle lit by several bonfires and beacons. It really was a marvellous structure that had its own beauty. While it couldn't match Hogwarts for sheer scale in the firelight it seemed to glow. Her musings on the landscape was interrupted by a brisk knock and muffled giggles from a far corner of the carriage.

Throwing a glance at the students Hermione rose and opened the door for her escort. Draco was … resplendent. He walked into the carriage as if he owned it… and he actually looked like he could. Several of the female students blushed under his scrutiny. Hermione smirked at the reaction; Draco could be quite intimidating at the best of times. With full dress robes and the determination to make an impression he cut quite the figure.

Spinning on his heel it seemed as if he finally noticed her. He was uncharacteristically quiet. A pleasant but somewhat worrying state considering they had to work together this evening. Hermione squirmed as Draco tracked every inch of the gown from head to toe and back again. His examination was interrupted by the arrival of Poppy, who after excusing the interruption with a few 'never mind me' s finally hustled the students off to their quarters.

Left alone the two former enemies took a moment before sitting opposite one another.

"You look… well Granger."

The awkward compliment was the best she was going to get for her efforts.

"As do you Malfoy. You managed to match my dress. Are you sure you won't go up in flames?"

Smirking slightly at the quip Draco seemed to be quite at ease, "I think I can risk an evening in red. It is only my tie after all."

Dressed in fitted robes Draco looked every inch the pureblood noble. The stark white shirt was pressed to perfection and finished off with a tie that was a perfect match for her gown.

"I confess I am a little surprised by that. You don't look all that magical. In fact if we cut off that outer robe you could pass for a muggle."

"Well I had to match my muggleborn date didn't I? There will be absolutely no doubt who you are here with tonight Granger."

"Hmmm won't that put our friend off?"

Draco grinned, "Oh no chance Granger. He's well aware of our history. No, this…" he motioned to the piece of clothing, "is for every other blighter in the place who might get in our way."

Hermione simply shrugged. He had been quiet all week about their secret aim. They had discussed how they would handle the press, unwanted attention from other attendees and even questions regarding their relationship but not once had they discussed whom they were supposed to be engaging specifically.

Deciding they were going to be late if they tarried any longer Hermione rose from her chair, "How am I supposed to know when to… well…"

"Turn on the charm… so to speak?" interrupted Draco, looking far too pleased with himself.

Rather than answer Hermione glared at her companion.

"Don't worry Granger," he continued, moving to stand by her. "You'll know. Trust me, you'll know."

Opening the door of the carriage Draco paused.

"Oh hang on a minute!"

Hermione turned back to find Draco patting his pockets.

"Draco, if we don't leave now we will be late!"

Draco grinned at the irritated witch, patting further pockets inside his robes before finally pulling a brooch from his cloak. As he came closer Hermione managed to get a better look. An emerald stone set in silver, or what she thought was silver, winked in the faint light.

"Malfoy what is …" she began to ask before being told to shush.

Standing in front of her Draco moved to the shoulder of her dress: being careful not to pull the fabric too much, and pinned the brooch. As he moved back Hermione finally was able to see what he had put on her. It was opulent to say the least.

Her guesses of emerald and silver were right but now, she could truly examine the piece of jewellery, the intricacy of its construction became clear. Bands of silver encased the emerald in an elaborate spiral. The jewel itself was clasped on two sides fashioned into the shape of snake's heads. It wasn't gaudy. It wasn't over the top. It was everything Draco himself emulated: finesse, power and sophistication. Far nicer than anything she would have expected to give her…not that she would have expected anything in the first place!

"Look if I have to wear a bloody red tie I think you can manage a Malfoy jewel for an evening" he grumbled, mistaking her shock for distaste.

"It's absolutely beautiful Draco," she murmured, examining the brooch carefully. "It's not going to do anything to quash those rumours about us though."

"Exactly."

Looking up at the man Hermione could only shake her head. He looked far too smug for his own good.

"Right Granger…Hermione, let's get this done."

Accepting the proffered arm Hermione moved toward the castle with Draco in tow.

The hall had never looked so well. It was truly a sight to behold. Gone were the tables used during the week and in their place round mahogany tables to seat eight or so surrounded an open floor that had been polished so that it shone. Several candelabras hung from the ceiling providing a low glow that highlighted the swathes of cloth that hung round the hall making it a cosier space that anyone had thought possible. Overhead, enchanted decorations, in keeping with the winter theme, complimented the shades of blue along the walls with creams and silvers.

Despite her mood Fleur couldn't help but admire the job done. Etienne had wandered off to find them a drink and, in the hopes of avoiding attracting too much attention, she had moved behind one of the freestanding decorations. Eyeing the crowd Fleur was able to name a few of the ministry officials having dealt with them before. Others were well known figures in the French magical world that often decorated the front pages of the magazines students hoarded. It was a true gathering of the biggest and brightest stars in both the social and political worlds.

Minerva McGonagall had arrived with Monsieur Leon ten minutes ago. The older witch had managed a brief hello before being commandeered by Madame Maxime for a photo opportunity. The event was, after all, to highlight the Triwizard Tournament. This was done with a mumbled remark regarding Fleur's reticence to involver herself with the guests. Sylvie was doing her best and as far as Fleur was concerned that was plenty. She had done more than her fair share of scrounging for the school. The one person she was interested in had not appeared yet. It was unlike Hermione to be late. Dinner was due to be served any minute. They would hold off until every guest had arrived, within reason of course.

Fleur scanned the crown once more to make sure she hadn't missed Hermione. Thankfully, from where she stood, she could see most of the hall and its occupants. Unluckily, having stepped into full view to examine the hall, she had attracted the attention of a young gentleman she hadn't been able to shake off completely. He was polite, friendly and, if she was honest, not hard on the eyes either. Not the worst character she had ever been subjected to. Despite all this Fleur felt her attention wander as he talked about his career at the ministry. Until it was completely arrested by a sight that Fleur could not even comprehend fully. It was Hermione, her Hermione but wholly different at the same time.

It wasn't only Fleur who seemed to be entranced by the new arrivals. As the new couple entered the room several heads turned to watch their progress. A feeling she couldn't describe churned in her stomach, something dark and twisted, that only grew as she studied the couple. The pair complimented each other marvellously. At that moment Fleur couldn't believe there was nothing going on. Hermione was all kindness and warmth whereas Draco was stoic and handsome. It grated on her very skin. Clenching her jaw Fleur ignored the man at her side in favour of watching them. Draco led Hermione gracefully through the crowds as if they were no one staring at them. Madame Maxime and other various officials greeted the striking couple. In every instance Hermione was gracious and arresting.

"Fleur…"

Glancing at the interruption she realised she had been left in the company of Etienne who held out a glass of champagne. Taking it she swiftly returned to her previous occupation.

"You are most welcome. Your… friend took some convincing but 'e decided to leave."

"Thank you Etienne," Fleur replied, not even looking in his direction once.

Well aware of what had caught his friend's attention Etienne surrendered and joined her.

Hermione's hand felt like it was going to fall off. Her cheeks were almost twitching with the constant smile she had to maintain. It was almost as bad as the celebrations following the war. Those days had been one whole blur of meetings, photo opportunities and endless greetings. Before she had known what was going on the first anniversary of the last battle at Hogwarts had been upon the trio. She had been exhausted then. Now was not that bad but reminded her of everything she hated about that time.

"Come on Granger. Almost there," whispered Draco, patting the hand that sat on his forearm.

"Where's this bloody contact?" muttered Hermione, thoroughly tired of the endless parade of notary figures.

"Actually…" grinned Draco, "… right here. Cormac! How are you?"

Cormac? That's not very French…hang on a second! CORMAC!?

She glared at Draco. His smile rivalled that of the Cheshire cat. Turning slowly Hermione had to suppress the shudder that threatened to erupt all over her. There in all his smug, blonde glory was Cormac McLaggen. He hadn't changed much since school; towering above her Cormac seemed to only have grown. Still, he had maintained his physique and by any standards would have been considered handsome enough. She desperately clung to whatever positives there were to be found. He was part of Dumbledore's Army. He fought in the last battle. He went up against the Carrows…he can't be that bad. The internal words of encouragement did little to dispel her displeasure at having him kiss her hand. Memories of Slughorn's Christmas party and mistletoe came to mind.

"Ah there's Headmistress McGonagall… I must have a quick word."

Draco managed to pull of the look of a man torn between being a good date and a good politician. Grasping Hermiones' hand Draco looked pleadingly at McLaggen.

"Could you do me a favour?"

Clenching Draco's hand in hers Hermione made the best use of her fingernails as only a woman can. She hoped it hurt.

Etienne watched Fleur watch Hermione. Dinner and the post repast entertainment, in the form of a live quartet, had been spent scrutinising the movements of one brunette witch. Etienne had the fingernail marks on his arm to prove it. Fleur was slowly losing all sense of herself. Etienne only had to look at her face to see that she was stretched to her limit. He pitied Hermione. She seemed to be having about as much fun as he was. Between Draco and another gentleman, who seemed to have grafted himself to her side like a limpet, she managed to keep up a façade that he saw right through.

"Fleur if you want to speak to 'er all you 'ave to do is walk over and use your charm!"

Snorting at the suggestion Fleur ignored him in favour of watching the English professor like a hawk.

"Well you might want to sit 'ere and watch but I am going to do something about it!"

Wrenching himself from her grasp and disregarding her whispered protestations Etienne strode across the hall to where Hermione sat.

"Mademoiselle! May I 'ave this dance?"

Making sure he made eye contact Etienne was not surprised to see utter gratitude in Hermione's gaze.

"I would love to!"

Taking her hand in his Etienne manoeuvred Hermiones' chair out of her way. Leading her to the almost empty dance floor Etienne began to move assuredly. He was pleasantly surprised that Hermione could keep up with him, in fact she moved most gracefully. The four-piece band had, mercifully, moved from the higher paced dances to slow waltzes. As he hummed the tune, it seemed somewhat familiar, Etienne took the time to smile at his grateful partner.

"Thank you … soo much!"

"Not at all mon amie! What are friends for? Hmm?"

Smiling at her partners' honesty Hermione rested her forehead on his shoulder. She could not verbalise her relief. Two hours, two full hours of the most boring conversation in her life. Turns out McLaggen had not moved on from his tales of quidditch. In fact most of their conversation had been centred round it. Draco had helped as much as possible. Then again Cormac had let slip a few essential clues regarding the tournament. His position within the Department of Magical Games and Sports was the reason for Draco's targeted discussion. Hermione had done her best to fawn over the man but she was truly losing the will to live.

"Ah ma petite! 'aving a difficult evening?"

"Difficult does not begin to describe what I have been through this evening Etienne."

Laughing aloud at her honesty Etienne continued to spin in time to the mellow music.

"Don't look now cherie but I believe I am attracting the wrong type of attention."

Glancing over Etiennes' shoulder at the next turn Hermione glimpsed Cormacs' face. Jealousy was painted all over it, to the point where he seemed to be paying very little attention to what Draco was saying.

"Please do not abandon me after this dance!" she squeaked.

"Ah that shall not be a problem," he whispered.

"What?"

Hermione had hardly breathed the word before the music came to a stop. Etienne stepped back and briefly Hermione panicked. Cormac had pushed back his chair and looked as if he were on his way to reclaim her attention. Her view of the man was then obscured by silver blonde hair. Unable to think Hermione accepted her new partner, placing her hand in the soft one offered without hesitation. Resting her other hand on Fleur's shoulder Hermione stepped into the French womans' confident hold.

They took off, perfectly in time with the new waltz being played. Breathing deeply Hermione resisted the honest temptation to bury her nose in the Frenchwoman's hair. Fleur herself was trying to resist the very same attraction. Usually she preferred Hermione's hair down but with it up she was free to appreciate the creamy neck on display.

"I 'ave just realised that you were in need of another partner," Fleur murmured softly.

The reply was just as soft. "Thank you. Thank you a hundred times over."

Smiling gently Fleur risked a glance at the younger woman in her arms. Hermione seemed relaxed; a broad smile graced her face. Fleur was struck by her beauty; it was captivating in every sense.

Hermione moved easily with her partner, it took no thought or planning. They moved as one round the floor drawing the admiring gazes of many who caught sight of them. Minerva McGonagall particularly enjoyed the fine display given by two of the brightest witches she had met. To her mind they complimented each other wonderfully, light and dark, warmth and coolness. She saw between them what had been missing; with Draco there was a stilted edge to Hermione, with Fleur there was nothing but ease.

Taking a moment to enjoy dancing with her new partner Hermione hesitated before speaking, "I'm surprised that you decided to join me."

Fleur licked her lips. She had surprised herself.

"Why?"

"Well, yesterday you seemed quite put out with me. Annoyed… I couldn't find you today."

"I apologise cherie, I was not myself. A few of my colleagues had to step in with my classes. I feel much better now."

"Fleur I don't think I explained myself very well yesterday. I'm not here with Draco for any other reason than helping Nathan be as prepared for what's to come."

Fleur sighed. She was waltzing the one person in the world that mattered to her round the room. The argument yesterday had been born out of frustration. Frustration that had completely disappeared the moment she had taken Hermione in her arms. All she could feel was Hermione, all she could smell, taste… every sense was overrun by the woman in her arms.

"'ermione, forget all that. I over reacted… I do not care… I am not angry with you. Forgive me?"

What else could she do looking into the pools of deep blue that seemed to glow with sincerity? Coming to a standstill Hermione realised the music had stopped. All too soon the sounds of the crowd seeped back into her consciousness. Realising she had yet to answer Hermione began to move her mouth.

"Hermione might I have the next dance?"

The hand, which appeared in between the two women, was so foreign to that which held her own now caused Hermione to pause briefly before answering.

"Of course."

Moving to join her new partner Hermione risked one final glance at Fleur.

"Fleur… always…"

No other words were needed before the ever-present Cormac McLaggen swept her off.