Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the other characters; they are the creations of JK Rowling. Nor am I making a profit from this.

A/N: Hello all, this is my first Harry Potter fanfiction. I know that I really shouldn't be starting another story when I already have two ongoing stories that I haven't been regularly updating! But this story idea won't leave me alone, and so I decided to write it down before it held me up anymore. I recently discovered the Fleur/Hermione pairing and fell in love with it instantly. This is also my first time writing femmeslash. Don't like it? Don't read it. This takes place during the Quidditch World Cup in GoF, because while I believe it could definitely be possible for Fleur and Hermione to strike up a relationship with their first meeting as the Beauxbatons entrance in October, it makes for more drama and fun if they had a previous meeting. Also, the "holiday in France" setup has been done a lot, so I figured this would be a more interesting starting point. This should cover the events of GoF and beyond, becoming more and more AU as we progress through the storyline… But this is NOT one of those stories where Fleur wins the Triwizard Tournament or Hermione becomes the fourth champion. Enough of my prattle and enjoy!

Prologue: Chaotic First Encounter

It was a warm summer's night, the stars twinkling in the clear English sky. A constant jovial chattering permeated the air as a result of the Irish victory during the recent Quidditch World Cup match against the legendary seeker Viktor Krum and the Bulgarian side. Yet somehow Hermione Granger, soon-to-be fifteen year-old witch, entering into her fourth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, felt the need to distance herself from the celebration, instead finding comfort against a large pine tree near the edge of the forest.

From her resting spot Hermione could still distantly make out the silhouette of the small enchanted tent she had been staying in for the past few days. She could imagine the sleeping forms of her two best friends, Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley, in addition to Fred, George, Ginny, and Mr. Weasley, and knew that she should be inside with them. The Weasleys had been kind enough to invite Hermione with them to the Quidditch World Cup, and while she was not nearly as avid a Quidditch fan as Harry or Ron, she could not decline an offer to travel with her friends and escape from her parents. Hermione grimaced at this thought, moving few meters deeper into the forest. Though she never resented being a muggle-born witch, never ashamed to explain what dentistry was to her magical friends, Hermione's parents had been acting strangely all summer. At first she attributed the over-protective behavior to the near-death experience she had with Sirius Black and Remus Lupin at the end of her third year, remembering her parents' tight embrace when she had stepped off the Hogwarts Express. However, her parents never let her out of their sight, even insisting on her spending her days in their clinic so that they could keep an eye on her! Honestly, it wasn't as if she was going to abandon her parents at 14 years old! But despite the physical closeness she had with her parents, Hermione could feel an emotional chasm widening between them. It wasn't the same disconnect that usually accompanied the car ride home from King's Cross, as her parents and she reacquainted themselves after spending nearly a year apart, but something much greater, much deeper. She had brought this up with them during dinner one evening, but the couple simply averted their eyes and said it was nothing, that they were just so glad their baby was home again with them. They all knew that this was not the truth, but at the same time they did not want to stir up any more tension between them. Hermione knew that her parents sometimes struggled to accept the more complicated aspects of the magical world, and did not want to push them any further out of their comfort zone. They would talk to her when they were ready, and Hermione went on this trip with the Weasleys in order to give her parents time to gather their thoughts.

While searching for equilibrium with her parents was trying and still unsuccessful, Hermione had more on her plate to deal with. She had been experiencing a recurring dream, and an unnerving one at that. Hermione would find herself standing in a dilapidated, deserted manor, a foreboding mist hovering eerily over the floor. Cobwebs and dust covered every surface, and a musty odor clung to the inside of her nostrils. But the setting of her dream was not what frightened Hermione, the dark and filth did not scare her. It was the progression of her discoveries in that house. Each time she had this dream, which was not exactly every night, but at least a few times a week, a new room in the house would open up to her, the atmosphere would become more ominous, or the walls would seem to warp. The sounds were the worst, though. Sometimes it was just the creaking of the ancient floorboards, or the scratching of branches against the windowpanes. But sometimes it was whimpering, malicious laughter, or even bloodcurdling screams. Every time Hermione woke up, she was covered in a thin film of sweat, gasping for breath, and clutching the area around her heart.

Tonight was no different, and the amused laughter that she had heard in her dreams this time still echoed in her mind. Hermione had left the tent to get some fresh air and peace of mind, and didn't want to disturb her friends. She had hoped that the dreams would stop if she left her parents, and although they did become less frequent, they did not cease altogether. A warm breeze blew some of the brunette's bedraggled hair to the side. It was then that she heard a twig break around her. Shaken from her reverie, Hermione twirled around, but saw nobody. Not convinced she was simply hearing things, Hermione slowly backed her way deeper into the forest. This was not the first time Hermione felt like she was being watched, having felt someone's gaze on her a few other times ever since arriving at the campsite. It wasn't the fact that someone was watching her that disturbed Hermione, though. On any other occasion, she may have even found it amusing, being the center of someone's attention like that. But the feeling that Hermione had when she guessed the eyes were trained on her felt as if they were piercing into her very soul. Frankly, it was unnerving, and coupled with her unsettling dreams, Hermione decided to put a stop to at least one of her nagging problems. Plunging her hand into her pajama pocket, Hermione groaned inwardly as her hand groped at the warm but empty fabric. Clearly her wand was still inside the tent. The tent that was now over a kilometer away. She was defenseless in the middle of a forest, with someone obviously stalking her. The circumstances were not looking very favorable.

"Who's there?" hesitantly asked Hermione, hoping it was just Harry or one of the Weasleys coming to check on her. She doubted it though, as she was already deep into the depths of the woods. If Hermione had to look for either of her friends, she would not have ventured out this far.

There was no verbal response, only a few more breaking twigs. Hermione could feel her heart beginning to race, as she called out nervously, "Harry, Ron, this isn't funny!"

As the young girl turned to make a run for it back to the tent, a cool, well-manicured hand grabbed her wrist. Turning around to identify her assailant, Hermione instead found her lips crushed against a pair of heavenly soft ones. Any situation such as this would normally be alarming, but what made this encounter more than just shocking was that these divine lips belonged to another girl. Not just any girl, one part of Hermione's mind noted. At such close quarters she could only make out the other woman's long, wispy blonde hair and captivating icy blue eyes, but even with those few defining features Hermione could tell that this woman was more than just pretty. While one portion of Hermione's mind made these embarrassingly superficial observations, the other was frantically trying to find a way to escape. She was being kissed against her will, gender be damned! She could work out the details later! The mysterious female still had one hand tightly gripping Hermione's arm, the other hand gently resting on her shoulder. Hermione tried to pull away, but only caused the other woman's lips to hungrily press forward. Hermione surprised herself by not attempting to escape any further. This woman's lips were so soft, her teeth lightly nipping Hermione's bottom lip as the arm on the shoulder drifted lower. Before Hermione could react, an explosion shook the ground, and the two fell onto the soft grass below.

Scrambling to her feet, bewildered, Hermione saw flames burst up from the direction of the campsite, followed by frantic screams. About to run back to the tent, Hermione turned back to the direction of the other woman, only to find the place where she had landed on the ground empty. Hermione was torn, part of her wanting to seek out the mysterious woman, while the other part of her worried if the explosion had harmed her friends. Deciding it was more important to find out what was going on, Hermione reluctantly began to sprint back towards the campsite. Little did she notice the blonde haired woman pressing herself against the back of a tree, desperately trying to remain hidden. As Hermione's form disappeared into the dark, she let out a sigh, her fingers gently tracing her lips.

"Mon amour…"

Before Hermione could make it back to her friends, a sharp pain struck her, knocking the breath out of her and bringing the young girl to her knees. It was then that a disheveled Harry and Ron nearly trampled over her in the forest.

"Bloody hell, Hermione, where have you been?" exclaimed Ron, as he procured her wand from his pocket. "You weren't in the tent when the commotion started, and you left your wand on the nightstand!"

"You're lucky Ron found your wand, Hermione," Harry admonished her. "I don't know where mine's gone…" When she didn't reply, Harry noticed her tightly clenched fist over her chest.

"What's wrong, Hermione?" Harry asked, as she shakily took her wand from Ron's outstretched hand.

"Don't—know—" sputtered Hermione, tensing as another sharp pain coursed through her body. The sensation was not unlike the after effects of her nightmares, and she noticed her breathing was becoming more and more erratic. Sweat began to form on her skin as her heart felt like it was going to leap from her chest.

"What's happening?—" Hermione managed to gasp out, the pain momentarily subsiding.

"We'll explain as we move," Harry said, bending down and slowly pulling Hermione's arm around his neck, gesturing for Ron to do the same. "Death Eaters are torturing the muggle campground owner and his family. We have to move away from the campsite as fast as we can."

The trio slowly rose, Hermione propped up by her two friends. They slowly made their way back into the forest, trying to avoid tripping over tree roots in the dark. An uncomfortable silence descended upon them as they continued to toil through their inky surroundings. The quiet reminded Hermione that there had been more people in the tent.

"Where are Mr. Weasley, the twins, and Ginny?" questioned Hermione, breaking the silence.

"Dad had to go help the Ministry," answered Ron, "and we got separated from the others in the crowd."

"So we're just wandering around in the forest, waiting for someone to find us?" Hermione asked, unable to hide the irritation in her voice. She knew that the boys were not to blame for their disorganized escape, but the perfectionist inside her couldn't help but get frustrated that there had been no evacuation plan in place. Walking aimlessly in the woods at night was not something she had wanted to do this evening.

"Dad said that he would meet us when he was finished," Ron grunted, trying to avoid a tree branch while supporting Hermione at the same time. "He said to just continue in this direction, that we'd eventually run into the others."

Hermione doubted that they would, given the vast area of the forest, but held her tongue. Voicing her skepticism aloud would only worsen the situation. Harry and Ron were trying their best to get her out safely, and she knew that she would not be able to get far by herself with her inexplicable pain. Deep in her thoughts, Hermione failed to hear the rustling of branches nearby, or the deep voice casting a spell. Focusing on bringing Hermione away from the chaos, Harry and Ron remained oblivious.

"Well I—" Hermione attempted to comfort them when the pain that had been bombarding her chest shifted to her head. Her mind began to pulse, the pain pounding within her cranium. Whatever Harry and Ron were trying to say to her as she grasped her head was lost on her, as Hermione struggled to stay conscious. The image of her two friends began to swim in front of her eyes, and soon Hermione knew no more.

It was then that Harry and Ron noticed the ominous Dark Mark floating above them.

A/N: This first chapter may be a little short, but it is really a prologue, setting things up for when the story moves to Hogwarts, which will be next chapter. Reviews are always welcome, especially because this fandom and femmeslash thing is new for me. Thanks!