"Stupid castle" Fleur muttered as she traversed the dark, lonely corridor. The blonde Veela was in a horrid mood, she had arrived at Hogwarts with the rest of her school with the expectation that she would compete in the Triwizard Tournament. The Frenchwoman threw aside the idea that her fellow students would steal such an opportunity, no she was stronger, faster with a wand, blessed with the gifts of a Veela and a prodigy with charms.

But Fleur had gotten ahead of herself.

Ignoring where the rest of the Beauxbaton students had gone Fleur had stumbled her own way into the decrepit castle and had gotten lost. Even now she shivered from the cold air that coursed through the stone hallways, her silk uniform useless against such chilling breezes. Fleur did consider backtracking and returning to the carriage, but such an act was unacceptable when there was the chance the school champions would be chosen tonight. With a stubborn resolve the Veela pushed onwards, ignoring the bone scratching creaks and clangs of the suits of armour that lined the hall.

Wiping her wand out Fleur cast a whispered "Lumos", the tip of her wand glowing with a bright comforting light that illuminated the steadily darkening hallways. With such light the Veela was greeted by the sight of several doors to her side, it was a school after all and so the Veela doubted there would be anyone in these classrooms when there was a supposed feast.

Nevertheless Fleur was surprised by the sound of faint coughing echoing from one of the oak doors. Intrigued the Veela approached the door and pushed it open. The inside of the room was bland, the typical wooden tables and chairs, a lone desk affixed to the front of the room for the professor and a half dozen open windows that shone through with the dying sun. However Fleur wasn't interested in the shoddy decal of a Hogwarts classroom, instead her eyes fell on a slumped over figure standing next to the Professor's desk, a bag sitting atop its surface.

"Hello?" Fleur called out, her wand being held out in a reflexed manner.

The figure's back straightened up and turned to face the Veela, the Frenchwoman quickly releasing it was as Hogwarts student, his buttoned shirt and tie giving it away immediately. Though his pale face and bright green eyes captured Fleur's attention, he did not look well.

"Uh hi" the student responded with a croaky voice, his left hand wiping against his trouser leg.

"I am sorry to disturb, but I believe I am lost, could you show me the way back to your feasting hall?" Fleur asked patiently, waiting for the boy's focus to disappear as her Veela magic ensnared his mind, it wasn't something she had great control over, but Fleur was beyond caring about its effects as it was something she had simply grown to accept.

The student looked at Fleur for a moment, his expression guarded before he shrugged, "sure, I'm getting hungry anyway". The boy then went about retrieving his bag, flinging it across his shoulder before walking towards the door. Fleur was thrown off when she assumed he wanted to leave, when in fact he grabbed something from the other side of the door, his robe. Only when this long black fabric was wrapped around him did the student look to Fleur.

"Are you coming?" he questioned as he walked out the door, his hands in his pockets.

Dumbly the Veela followed, the shock of the boy's resistant to her allure hadn't worn off. Only one other male had ever ignored it, her Father, who would never feel it's affects.

Thankfully Fleur's feet were able to function whilst her surprise subsided. In truth it shouldn't have affected Fleur so harshly, it wasn't impossible for men to be immune to Veela, it just was so unlikely. They were beyond rare.

"So what school are you from?" The boy asked as he led Fleur through the winding lanes of the castle.

"Beauxbaton" Fleur responded mechanically, before if she was talking to a male she didn't care how she sounded because they would never be offended, now she had to pay attention to how she spoke!

"Huh, French" he muttered to himself, silence quickly falling on the pair. Fleur didn't mind however as she tried so desperately to think of something to say, but nothing could come to her.

Eventually the seemingly endless hallways of the silly castle came to a stop as Fleur followed Harry through a door and into the largest stairwell she had ever seen. To top it off flights of stairs flew past, all of them falling in line with certain ascensions and descents.

"Now we wait" the boy told her as he stood infront of the stonework that stopped students from falling to their deaths, soon he rested both hands on the cold stone, his breathing becoming increasingly audible.

"Are you well?" Fleur asked, her hesitation evaporating at the sudden signs of poor health the boy was displaying.

"I'm fine" he responded in an unconvincing fashion before his head was bent forward and he coughed painfully into his hand.

Fleur frowned at the display, the boy in front of her was obviously not well, but she dared not pry into the inner workings of the person who was guiding her.

"Ah Harry!" a friendly voice called out, turning the Veela's attention away from the coughing boy and towards a floating ghost hovering above them. Fleur jumped a little at the sight but her guide didn't seem so surprised.

"Hey Nick" the boy called back, responding to the name of Harry.

The ghost floated down to the pair, his outfit was despairingly old and to Fleur's eyes, hideous.

"I see you've found yourself a new friend" Nick said with enthusiasm, "but whatever are you doing here? The feast has just started".

Irritation flashed across Fleur's face, she couldn't be late, what if the champions were chosen tonight? What if Madame Maxime found out she had gotten lost?

"I'd love to be eating Nick, but you know how these blasted stairs act, they're never helpful" Harry groaned, sharing at least some of Fleur's ghost looked down at the two student's plight with understanding, "well, I shouldn't really be telling you this Harry, but if you kick the stone pillar you're leaning on I think the stairs will get the message" With that the ghost called Nick floated off, his hands touching his neck consciously.

"They allow ghosts to live in a place of learning?" Fleur questioned critically, watching as the younger student followed the dead man's advice.

"Nick hasn't harmed anyone, I mean most of the ghosts are harmless" Harry responded, kicking the pillar.

"It cannot be hygienic" the Veela muttered.

"Does it matter? You don't learn here" Harry replied.

Fleur's retort was swallowed by the arrival of the stone bridge that ascended into place. The Veela eyed the magical staircase suspiciously, waiting for it to move again, yet it remained and Harry took the lead in crossing. Wanting to avoid being left behind Fleur followed closely, her eyes glimpsing a dash of scarlet on the boy's hands.

"What is that on your hand?" Fleur commented curiously.

"Nothing, you're eyes are probably playing tricks on you" Harry stated, a twinge of annoyance coating his words, his accused hand wiping against his robe as he went.

"You shouldn't tell lies" Fleur scowled, her temper rising hotly at the young boy's attempt to dissuade her thinking.

"I know, that's why I wasn't lying" Harry quipped dryly

The blonde Veela fumed silently at the sheer audacity emanating from the boy in front of her. Simply put, no one had ever spoken to her with such harshness before, the others who had spoken to her were either enthralled or didn't wish to draw her anger.

Thankfully Fleur found the restraint to avoid letting loose a stream of shallow insults towards her short guide, instead she focused on the stone steps that climbed upwards, hopefully towards the hall where the rest of her school had gone.

This wish seemed to come true as when the blonde Veela and the boy named Harry had finished their ascent they reached a platform that overlooked the grand stairway they had climbed. Ahead from this stony plateau was a courtyard of sorts, a large door tempting Fleur forwards. Lining the walls that stood beside the door were more suits of empty yet shining armour. Above all of this however were four banners that hung in predestine condition. Although Fleur knew little of the school she was visiting, the Veela wasn't unaware of the four houses that were home to the students of Hogwarts.

"We're here" Harry announced with a crack to his voice, the Veela guessing his cough wasn't merely some common cold.

"Thank you Monsieur" Fleur replied, her desire to be within the warm light of the feasting hall growing with each second.

The short scruffy haired wizard nodded with understanding though he remained fixed to his spot next to the stair railing, his stance indicated he was less that eager to enter the hall ahead of them.

"Are you not coming, you said you were hungry?" Fleur questioned, her curiosity being piqued once more.

"You go on, I'll go in a minute" Harry said, his hand sticking out, gesturing that the Veela go as he had described.

Fleur looked at the boy for a passing moment before shrugging, this Harry had done what she had asked, she saw no further need to bother him. Rather, she preferred being away from the boy who was unaffected by her inherited abilities.

Not looking back the Veela pressed forward into the hall, crossing its threshold with several confident strides. Inside the hall Fleur found herself faced with an immediate problem, there was no sign of the Goblet of Fire.

Fleur bit her lip, Madame Maxime had drilled it in to her and the others heads that the Goblet of Fire was how the champions would be selected, if it wasn't there did it mean that Fleur had missed her opportunity? Shaking her head the Veela focused on what was in front of her, and that was several benches full of adolescent boys looking at her with lustful eyes.

The blonde witch scowled with disgust, her mind immediately thinking of the boy just a few feet behind her that had looked at her with human eyes, not ones of such depraved emotion that were taking in every inch of her form. Realising that standing about would only force more eyes upon her, Fleur walked over to the bench on her left, the large table was covered in a cloth adorned with a raven, even a few of the light blue uniforms of beauxbatons were sitting at this table. However its ranks were mostly filled up, only a sparse number of seats remained, forcing Fleur to sit near the back, away from the front of the hall.

"Oh hello" an airy voice said softly as Fleur sat down on the creaking bench.

Fleur's blue eyes looked towards the sound, finding a young dirty blonde girl sitting across from her, in her hands resided a newspaper, yet it was upside down. The Veela looked at the girl with a confused expression.

"It is the wrong way round" Fleur stated bluntly.

"I know" the girl replied simply, "its better this way".

"Is it's contents that horrible?" Fleur retorted, assuming that the newspaper held little of value in its words.

"Not really, my dad wrote it after all, its just better to read this way" the girl said, her voice remaining worryingly un-detached.

"Well I wouldn't want to disturb your reading then" Fleur grumbled all the while wondering if it would have been better to stay standing.

"You aren't, are you one of the students from beauxbatons?" the girl said.

"Oui" Fleur stated before she pushed forth her own question, "have the champions been chosen?"

"No I think we're just eating" the girl replied, "though I doubt you'll be able to get anything, the Elves would have finished giving out all the food".

Fleur let out another sigh, she had been so worried, so pent up for nothing and from the sounds of it she wouldn't be eating in the so called feasting hall. At the mere thought of food the Veela's stomach growled, annoyed by such a statement.

"If you're really hungry you could try and see if there's any food left on the other tables?" the girl suggested, her eyes floating over to look at Fleur's, the Veela shivering ever so slightly at the sheer lack of focus within the girl's empty eyes.

"I think I will" Fleur muttered before she stood from the wooden table and turned around, a few head bobbing up to look at the Veela once more. Swallowing her irritation Fleur cross the dividing gap between the raven crested table to the one to the right of it. As she closed in on the neighbouring table Fleur caught the tail end of an intriguing conversation, one that contained a familiar voice.

"Really Harry you should go to the medical wing, you know what Madam Pomfrey told you" a strong willed, feminine voice argued.

"Its a cough Hermione, one that isn't going away, I'll be fine" the receiver of said criticism retorted, the owner of the voice instantly recognised by the Veela as the one who had guided her only moments ago.

Fleur's eyes looked with intent for the blacked hair student, search proving successful as she found the scruffy haired boy, his back to her sitting with a ginger student, across from the pair sat a girl, her own hair containing a seemingly endless amount of brown curls and twists. Amongst the trio sat a plate, its contents untouched by those that surrounded it. Its make distinctly French. Bouillabaisse.

"Excuse me?" Fleur said, standing behind her previous guide, "are you eating that?"

The boy named Harry turned around to face the Veela, a hint of recognition flaring in his emerald eyes though besides that he did react to her arrival, unlike his lighter haired friend, whose mouth lay open with threads of saliva running down the side of his face.

Fleur grimaced in disgust and forced her attention back to Harry, his completion looking quite different considering how close the Veela stood to the boy. He was still pale, this defining detail had yet to change, but the vivid streaks that ran through his eyes fascinated the Veela, whose kind were enraptured by beauty. Different shades of green ranging from emeralds to bright pale yellows coalesced in his irises. It was a completely unique sight.

"Ronald you're drooling on the table!"

The shriek of the frazzled haired girl pulled Fleur back to reality, the Veela blinked several times as she watched Harry pull the plate closer before offering it to her.

"Take it, I'm not that hungry" he told her, ignoring the growing argument between the ginger and the brunette besides him.

"Are you sure?" Fleur questioned, unable to shake the feeling that something was wrong with the boy.

"Yes, here" Harry offered, pushing the plate further towards the Veela.

Fleur took the dish in both hands, offering the scruffy haired boy and appreciative glance, though not before she spoke to him, "you should listen to your friend, you do not look well".

Harry's face twitched slightly but his expression remained neutral for the most part. When the Veela was given no response she simply turned and walked away, her conscious appeased by her actions, though her ears did pick up a murmured phrase at the very reach of her hearing.

"Yeah I know".

The Veela continued moving, troubled by what the boy had muttered to himself, though it wouldn't have been right to confront him about what he had just said. She didn't know him, not enough to ask about such personal issues, nor was it her job to be concerned about a student from another school that she had just met.

Regardless of the logic that was running through her head, it didn't stop Fleur from putting her plate down on the table she had previously been sitting on, her appetite having vanished, her curiosity taking its place. The Veela looked to the detached blonde again, a question rip in her mind.

"Who that boy? His name is Harry" Fleur inquired, her thumb jabbing over her shoulder to the bench the boy in question was sitting at.

The younger girl lowered her newspaper, her eyebrows raised. "You mean Harry Potter?" she responded.

The feast ended in a way that didn't suit Fleur at all, the champions were not to be chosen that night, but the next. The rest of the information given out wasn't new to the Veela, there would be an age limit, contestants couldn't withdraw their names… At some point Fleur closed her ears to the ramblings of Albus Dumbledore, his voice proving more hypnotic than powerful, something that Fleur had excepted from the man who had faced more than one Dark Lord.

In fact the only new pieces of information she had gathered weren't even related to the tournament that Fleur desired to enter, but about the boy who had guided her to the hall. Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived.

Fleur wasn't an idiot, she knew of the baby who had killed off the Dark Lord, but she didn't think he would look so ill of health, was it an after effect of being hit with the killing curse? The girl Fleur had been talking to said otherwise.

"He didn't always look like that" she told the Veela, "he was thin I mean, but not so pale. Actually a lot changed for him after my first year here".

"Oh, what happened Luna?" Fleur inquired, having already been offered the girl's name, she hadn't asked.

"Something to do with a Basilisk, some students were petrified by it and the groundskeeper Hagrid and Dumbledore were taken away from Hogwarts. In the end Harry killed it, but it was weird" Luna explained before she abruptly stopped.

"In what way was it weird?" Fleur said persistently, annoyed with how spaced out the younger girl was.

"Well when Dumbledore told us about the Basilisk all the students had been cured, even Harry's friend Hermione had been de-petrified. But Harry didn't show up for the rest of the year. The next time I saw him was the year after, and that's when he started looking pale, some people say that he doesn't go to any lessons now as well" Luna told Fleur, the girl's attention floating back to her newspaper which now rested on the wooden surface of the table.

"I suppose that is strange, why would a student go to a school if he doesn't attend lessons, there would be no point coming, no?" Fleur muttered.

"He still does the exams" Luna added, "and I saw him a couple of times wandering the halls at the weekends, I don't think he's that happy".

"Why?" the Veela questioned.

At that point Luna just shrugged, "he never smiles".

Fleur left the great hall with the rest of her school's attaché that night with her mind filled with confusion when at the beginning of the day she had only worried about getting chosen by the Goblet of Fire. Why had Hogwarts played host to a Basilisk of all creatures? Why had the Boy who had survived a killing curse been allowed to wallow in such an unhealthy state? Fleur felt three parts intrigued and one part concerned.

Before Fleur climbed into the enlarged compartment that had been flown to Hogwarts by beauxbatons's Pegasuses a stern and thick hand pulled her back. The Veela had already reached into her pocket for her wand when her eyes fell on the large form of her headmistress.

"Fleur why were you not with the rest of us when we entered the great hall?" Maxine asked in French, her voice filled with disappointment.

The Veela clenched her hands tightly, she knew that this small blunder would be picked up by the half-giantess, nothing got passed her easily. "I… I got lost Headmistress" Fleur told her quietly, her head bowed in mock failure.

"Hmm, see that this does not happen again, I would not wish for you to fail in your entrance as our champion, none of your peers can match your level of charms now can they?" the half-giantess asked rhetorically, her form leaning over the shorter Veela.

"Of course Headmistress" Fleur responded, her irritation rising at the possibility that one of the other students could possibly be chosen. She and Maxime knew that her skills surpassed her peers, they had only been brought to fulfil one of the old traditions of the Tri-wizard tournament, that of inter school relations. What Maxime also knew about was Fleur's burning desire to prove herself superior, not that she hadn't already.

"Very good, now go and rest. Tomorrow will be a very long day" Maxime told her patronisingly, her smile filled with white teeth.

The Veela offered her Headmistress her own glaring smile before falling into the enlarged compartment, muttering the word "cow" under her breath as she went. Fleur rushed off to her own room, ignoring the conversations that were being had by her fellow students in the small common areas that littered the magically expanded compartment. This was another thing that raised the Veela's ire, Maxime had purposely chosen students for the tournament that Fleur either didn't get along with, or she just didn't know. None of her friends had been able to come with her. The Veela guessed it was her Headmistress's way of ensuring that she would remained focused.

As soon as Fleur had reached her room she muttered a locking charm on the door, she had already fallen prey to other students trying to enter, she didn't desire any more interactions with them. With her door barred the Veela allowed her shoulders to fall, a hand reaching up to undo the ribbon in her hair. A sigh of relief leapt out of Fleur's mouth as she fell on her cot, her shoes being kicked from her feet. Fleur wanted to remain her position, her care for her uniform being thrown aside to fill her overburdening desire for sleep, yet the Veela sat back up with a groan, her curiosity remained piqued and she would be damned if a fourth year student would hold her interest any longer.

Fleur didn't go to bed until well past midnight, her focus remained fixed on the small collection of books that she had brought with her about Hogwarts. Of all of them the one her sister had rammed into her trunk at the last second about her favourite celebrity proved the most insightful. Fleur wondered if it was coincidence that Gabrielle's crush also happened to be the boy who held her intrigue.

Though regardless of whether it was fate's intervention or not the small book proved somewhat useful, titled "Harry Potter, the baby who saved Great Britain". It's author was English but Fleur's father had found a translator to transcribe a copy into French for his youngest daughter. The book listed just a few facts about Harry's parents, the most glaring being that they were both dead and that Harry had no other magical living relatives. Other than that there was little else used to describe Harry's family other than he had been living with his Aunt and Uncle, both muggles. These details proved hazy, mostly due to the fact the author had only written the book two years ago.

Eventually Fleur simply slammed the book closed, the majority of the book contained little more than speculations or exaggerated truths, there was no way Harry had fought the spectre of He Who Must Not Be Named in his first year, Fleur just rolled her eyes at such a farce.

The rest of the books she had skimmed over helped the Veela with her understanding of Hogwarts a little more, the names of the houses and their founders along with some small titbits about shortcuts and the layout of the castle. The location of the schools owlry soured Fleur's mood, if she wished to send a letter to her family there was more walking involved, an activity the Veela loathed.

In the dying minutes before Fleur collapsed on her bed she wrote out a letter to her Mother, hopefully Apolliene knew something that could help answer Fleur's curiosity about Harry Potter and why he seemed to be in such ill health. It did help that Fleur's mother was a healer after all.

After checking and then double checking her grammar, the Veela rolled up her parchment and retired herself to her bed, her uniform now tucked away neatly to be washed at a later date. Fleur's last few waking thoughts were surrounded by the scruffy haired boy and the tournament that had brought the Veela to the chilly castle in Scotland.

A/N:

Hi all!

Hope you enjoyed the first chapter of this story, I can stay with more certainty that this story is meant to have more than one chapter, my previous fics were meant to either be one shots that spiraled out of control or remained one shots.

Regardless of this fact I'll try and upload a chapter every other week as I'm currently writing another long story as well. Depending on how I feel this story may get further fics to supplement the other books but as of now just assume this story will encompass the fourth year and nothing more.

Hopefully the pairing is obvious, but I would like to point out that I haven't attempted to write french accents in, I'd rather not offend an entire country so I'll leave such a trait out of this story.

Nothing much more to say really, reviews are greatly appreciated and if you have any dying questions my PMs are open.

Cya.