AN: So I realize that golf may not be a whole lot of fanfiction readers cup of tea, but I promise, it's not actually really about the golf :) This story started writing itself in my head in the middle of the night, and it would not stop till I actually put my fingers to the keyboard, so here it is. I could wait and release it one chapter at a time, but eh, why bother when it's finished?

This is rated M for some mild language, and for the sexual content, which will show up after chapter 1. You've been warned, read at your own discretion.

Hope you enjoy, and as always, questions, comments, happy or scathing reviews are always welcome here or on my tumblr (feedback really is a wonderful thing). If you happen to enjoy the story feel free to go right ahead and share it with others.

Chapter 1

"Welcome to anyone just joining our broadcast of the final round of the Women's Kraft Nabisco Championship taking place on this beautiful April day here in sunny California. The first major tournament of the year in women's golf is always exciting, and this year is no exception. I'm Dean Thomas, and I'm joined here by Penelope Clearwater."

"Hi Everyone."

"And as always we have Minerva McGonagall, a three time major winner back in the early days of women's golf, out on the golf course following our final pairing. It should come as no surprise to regular women's golf viewers to hear that the two names at the top of the leader board are none other than Fleur Delacour of France and Hermione Granger of England, our world ranked number one and number two players respectively".

"Yes Dean, recently it feels like one or the other of these young ladies is vying for the top spot during the final round of most tournaments, more often than not against each other".

"Indeed Penelope. And what a treat it is for us as viewers. These two could not have more different styles of play if they purposely tried. In fact, pretty much everything about them seems to be opposite, even the way they dress. Let's go down to Minerva now, who is tailing this final pair of the day on the 18th hole. Minerva, do you have anything to add"?

"About the way they dress Dean? No."

"Great! How about giving us an account of what the atmosphere is like down there between the two"?

"I think it's safe to say there is some tension going on. It's no secret these two are big rivals, and there probably isn't a lot of love lost between them."

Fleur Delacour is trying very hard not to roll her eyes, truly, but it's becoming difficult. She's waiting on the Granger girl to make her approach shot, and as usual she's being so absolutely methodical about it. She always considers every angle, every outcome, before finally making her oh so technically perfect swing. Everything about her stance, swing and follow through is just so damn text book that it drives Fleur mad. She prefers to play with more grace, adding more art to her swing and fun to her game in general. Fun is not a word she would associate with Hermione Granger's golf game. It's actually not a word she would associate with anything pertaining to the girl.

When Hermione finally steps up to her ball Fleur lets out a breath she didn't realize she was holding. There's the familiar 'woosh' of the club swinging through the air, the sound of the club head making contact with the ball, and Hermione's ball takes flight.

"Be right, be right!" Hermione is calling after the ball, as if she can will it to land where she wants. The ball lands with a thud on the edge of the green but takes a large bounce in the wrong direction, coming to rest in the sand bunker just to the side of the green. Hermione mutters a curse word before turning to hand the 9 iron back to her caddie Ron.

"It's all right 'Mione, stay calm, you can get up and down from a sand trap in your sleep." Ron reassures her, using a towel to clean the face of the club before returning it to the bag.

Hermione gives him a curt nod, turning to watch Fleur take her turn. She doesn't miss the small smirk Fleur was sporting as she turned away to consult with her caddie before making her shot.

The truth is the french woman gets on her nerves. She's just so carefree about the game in a way that makes all of this seem like a random Sunday afternoon activity she just decided to try on, rather than the mental and physical grind that requires hours upon hours of practice it all really is. Then there's that damn powder blue skirt she wears every time she's in contention for the top spot. Sure, technically it's a sport skirt made specifically for golf, it just seems to be cut a little higher than Hermione would think someone performing athletics would want, and she's always pairing it with some cute little golf top and finishing off the whole look with a white visor, annoyingly perfect blonde ponytail flowing out the back.

She herself had always preferred golf slacks (she'd do with long shorts in warmer temperatures) with a button up shirt or polo, always in sensible colors that wouldn't distract from the game, and she was forced to tame her hair into a braid which she wore a black baseball style hat over. The only touch of flair she was never without was the shiny 'H' belt buckle her father had given her when she'd turned 16 and first gone pro.

Fleur finally decides on the club she wants and wastes no time initiating her swing. Hermione has to begrudgingly admire Fleur's finishing position. It's all perfect angles and curves, her flawless pale skin held in complete stillness for just a moment. Then Fleur is muttering at her ball in french and Hermione's attention is pulled to the object in flight. The ball lands 10 feet beyond the pin on a gentle slope and slowly trickles back down towards the hole, coming to a stop about a foot from the pin. The gallery explodes into applause in appreciation of the magnificent shot, and Fleur's smirk has returned as she stomps on the divot she made with her swing.

"Wow, what a shot by Delacour. She's only one stroke behind, and with Granger's ball in the sand trap she has a good chance to birdie this hole and force a playoff. That seemed like a very uncharacteristic mistake by Hermione there Minerva, wouldn't you say?"

"She actually struck that ball perfectly Dean, and I think she was trying to use that little hill at the front of the green to dampen the ball's approach to the hole, she just got a really unlucky bounce considering how receptive the greens have been all weekend. I don't know if the ball hit a sprinkler head or what, but it just seems to be some really bad luck. We'll have to see how she responds to it."

"Indeed. And it looks like Hermione has offered for Delacour to go ahead and take her putt before she plays from the sand, and Delacour has apparently accepted. I don't know if I understand that decision by either of them Minerva."

"I think they're both playing a little bit of mental chess here. Fleur figures if she makes this putt for birdie they'll be tied, which will put more pressure on Hermione and maybe cause a poor sand shot. Hermione is perhaps thinking if she goes first and hits a poor shot she takes all the pressure off Fleur. It might be a short putt for Delacour, but we've seen people miss shorter."

"Excellent point as usual Minerva. Let's see what Fleur does here. Oh and she's dropped it right into the heart of the hole! There's that little bow and smirk the spectators love so much. The pressure is really on Granger now. She needs to knock this ball close and make her par putt in order to stay tied and force a playoff. Either way this tournament will eventually end with one of these ladies as the winner, taking the signature championship 'leap' into the pond off the 18th green"

Hermione makes her way into the sand trap, pausing to take a calming breath. She knows what she needs to do. She needs to stay calm, be efficient and rely on her hours of practice.

"Soft swing, splash the sand. Soft swing, splash the sand. Soft swing, splash the sand." She enunciates crisply, loud enough for only her own ears to hear. She digs her shoe spikes into the sand, taking her stance, and makes her swing, feeling the sand splash up away from her club just like she planned. The ball arcs into the air and onto the green, slowly rolling out towards the hole, dying out just on the edge of the cup before it drops in.

"I don't believe it! Granger knocks it in from the bunker for a birdie and wins the tournament!"

The spectators go wild and Hermione tosses her sand wedge in the air, bringing her hands on top of her head in disbelief. Ron is upon her in a second, picking her up to spin her around, laughing like a crazy person.

Fleur is standing just off the green, watching them celebrate while wearing the disinterested look her mother taught her at such a young feels a gentle tug on her arm, and her caddie Harry is there offering a sympathetic look.

"No worries Fleur, you'll come out on top next time. You played a brilliant round today, don't beat yourself up."

She gives him a small nod to let him know she heard him, the expression on her face never changing. It still doesn't change as she watches Hermione and her caddie take a running leap into the pond off the left side of the green, a tradition for the winner of the tournament. They emerge from the water soaking wet, laughing and giving each other a few half hearted splashes. Fleur's eyes involuntarily flick down Hermione's torso, taking in the way her wet clothes cling to her body, before turning her gaze towards Harry again.

"I'll be in the clubhouse getting ready to go."

And with that she strides off, not even offering a congratulatory hand shake to Hermione, although the other girl would never have expected one from her. They've been through this song and dance several times now, both of them taking turns at the top, and some things looked like they would never change, their general animosity towards each other being one them.

Two people who do not share any animosity are their caddies, Harry and Ron. While Fleur heads to the clubhouse Harry makes his way over to Ron, passing him a well worn $20 dollar bill.

"Looks like it's your turn to hang on to it mate."

Ron smiles, tucking the bill into a pouch on Hermione's golf bag. "Try not to cry over it too much, I'm sure I'll be giving it back to you soon enough."

"Well folks, that was quite a finish, but then, what else did we expect from these two competitors? We'll see in a couple weeks if we get another show down. They're both slated to play in the Classic in San Francisco. We can only hope to see some of these same fireworks. I'm Dean Thomas bidding you good evening on behalf of myself, Penelope and Minerva."