Little Mouse

CH 2

Though it had only been a dream, the feeling of shame and embarrassment stayed with Hermione the next morning.

Instead of looking for Fleur, Hermione walked straight to the Gryffindor table for breakfast, making sure to keep her eyes from veering towards the Ravenclaw table where the Beauxbatons students were assigned.

She greeted her friends and sat down, immediately focusing on her breakfast.

If anyone noticed that she wasn’t as talkative as usual or wondered about the loads of food she was piling on her plate, they kept their comments to themselves.

Or perhaps the boys were more distracted by something, or someone else.

“Hey, Harry?”

“Yeah, Ron?”

“Why does Fleur Delacour keep looking over here?”

Her ears perked up as soon as she heard the name, but she was careful not to show interest in the topic. She kept her attention on the eggs and sausage in front of her.

“Huh?”

“She’s probably trying to mess with your head, Harry!”

“Why would she do that?” Harry laughed and turned to see what Ron was going on about. Hermione did not move from her position in her seat next to Harry, refusing to turn around, knowing she would immediately lock eyes with the blonde if she did.

“Huh!” Harry chuckled before looking back at his friends. “Maybe she is.”

“Wait! Maybe it’s not you!” Ron said. Hermione looked up at him questioningly. “Maybe she’s looking at me!” He waved excitedly. 

is expression quickly turned sour. “Or not.”

“Don’t be silly, Ronald,” Hermione scoffed, unable to stop herself from jumping in. “She’s probably just looking around for more ammunition. More vitriol against Hogwarts, I’m sure.”

“You’re the one who attacked her,” Ron snorted. “She’s probably making sure you’re at sufficient distance away from her!”

“Oh, bugger off, Ron!” Hermine slammed her hands down as she stood up.

“You… you don’t know anything!”

“What did I do!?”

“And I’ll have you know, I do have other friends!” She yelled at him as she exited the Great Hall, not looking back once.

“I never said she didn’t…” Ron stammered, exchanging confused looked with Harry. “Does she though?”

“No idea,” Harry shrugged staring at the heaps of abandoned food she had left behind.

“Think she’s coming back fer it?” Seamus asked, already poking at the leftover meats. “Would be a waste to leave it behind though.”

Hermione charged out, through the hallway into the courtyard, taking deep breaths to keep her tears at bay. The knot in her stomach had once again grown and made its way up her throat.

She reminded herself that the images replaying in her head were all just a dream. Nobody had said those awful things to her. At least not today.

“’Ermione?”

“Fleur!” Hermione was surprised to hear the voice behind her. She hadn’t realized she had been followed.

“Salut, petite souris,” she smiled as she slowly approached. “Tout bien? Are you okay?”

“Yes… I just…” She was caught off guard, and suddenly aware of the role reversal from the night before. Though Hermione doubted she looked anything as composed or stunning as Fleur did in her moment of emotional distress. She felt like a blubbering fool.

“Did zat carrot boy do somezing to you?”

“No,” Hermione shook her head, restraining her laugher at the insult. She didn’t want to entertain Fleur’s mockery of her friends. “He didn’t. I’m just having a rough morning.”

“I see… Is zat why you did not come sit with me?” she asked, a hint of worry in her voice.

“I didn’t want to be a bother,” Hermione shrugged. She found herself feeling better as the distance between them closed.

“A bozzer?” Fleur looked confused. “Non. I do not believe you would 'ave been.”

“Maybe not to you,” she said, “but the Ravenclaws, I don’t think –.”

“Et voila!” Fleur raised her arms in frustration. “I do not understand why your school makes zese silly diveesions between students! So much unnecessairy problemes!”

“The rivalry is supposed to promote healthy competition and school spirit,” Hermione tried to explain, though she wasn’t sure she could even convince herself after the past four years of animosity she had witnessed and experienced between the houses.

“Alors, I will not put pressure on you,” she went back to a reassuring tone. “Ze invitation is open. I ‘ope you will join us soon.”

“I’ll think about it…” she responded uncommittedly.

“D’accord…” The French girl’s smile faltered as she turned. “I am sorry for disrupting you.”

“Fleur?” Hermione didn’t want her to leave. Not just yet.

The older girl stopped and turned around, an expectant grin on her face.

“Oui?”

“Why do you call me petite… Soris? What does that word mean?”

“I thought you would 'ave researched it by now,” she said as she walked back to her.

“Can’t you just tell me?”

“Souris,” she corrected the pronunciation. “It means mouse.”

Hermione’s heart sank. She wanted to run away again, but she was too filled with indignation.

“Mouse? Little Mouse!?”

“You are angry?” Fleur’s expression became concerned.

“Well, it’s not exactly a compliment now, is it!?” she cried out. “And it’s nothing new by the way! There goes mousy little Hermione, nervous and quiet, buried under her books, overlooked and plain and so easy to trample all over! I’ve heard it all before and honestly, I would expect more creativity from the French!”

“It was not meant as an offense!” Fleur grabbed her hands, as if she knew Hermione might try to run off. “I promeese,” she pressed on. “It just means…”

“That I’m a silly little girl? Some dumb little, dull looking mouse of a girl?”

“Non!” she tightened her hold. “Comment peux-tu dire ça! Do not say such zings.”

Hermione waited for the explanation.

“En fin…” she continued. “You are leetle, yes, and you are often all alone buried beneath your books.”

 “Are you still trying to not offend me?”

“But I do not think zat books and independence are bad zings! And I do not think you are plain or dull! Not at all!

Hermione waited.

“I just… think you are cute,” she said, and then she awkwardly bopped Hermione's nose. “Like a cute leetle mouse.”

“Well, that’s rather patronizing, isn’t it?” Hermione crossed her arms, unsure of how to respond to the words and action.

“I thought it was endearing,” Fleur frowned, realizing her mistake. “I see now zat it does not translate the way I intended. I will stop.”

“Well, let’s not be brash…” Hermione sighed. She was rethinking how offended she was.

She still wasn’t sure how to take it, but she also didn’t want Fleur to stop. She kind of liked it.

Part of her still felt patronized, but another part felt special. Special enough to receive a nickname from Fleur Delacour. A nickname that was meant to be endearing. Because Fleur thought she was cute. It made her heart and her head flutter.

“Maybe just not in front of the others?”

“D’accord.” Fleur’s face lit up. “Solely between us.”

Hermione mirrored the expression, pleased to be sharing something between them.

“Can I… shall we walk together? I have class soon.”

“Allons-y.” Fleur extended her arm for Hermione to loop around. “Let’s go.”

They did not meet up for a few days afterwards. Hermione stayed away, mostly busy with schoolwork and helping Harry with questions they had about his entry into the Triwizard Tournament. Fleur respected her space, though Hermione always knew when they were in the same room. She recognized the familiar pull calling her to distinct directions.

After mulling it over for a bit one afternoon, including a lot of standing and sitting back down in her seat at the Gryffindor table, she finally made a decision.

Her behavior did not go unnoticed by Ron and Harry.

“You alright there, Hermione?”

“Do you need to… you know… go to the loo?” Ron asked awkwardly.

“Oh, grow up, Ron!” Hermione dismissed them and marched over to the Ravenclaw table.

She was quickly waved over by a Ravenclaw girl she recognized from one of her classes the year before. The girl seemed excited to get her attention. Hermione looked around for Fleur but didn’t see her.

“Hello, all” Hermione nodded at the group. “I hope you don’t mind me barging in.”

“Not at all!” The girl stood up and scooted her friends over to make room for her to sit. “We’ve been looking forward to talk to you!”

“You have?” This was confusing for Hermione. Not only were they Ravenclaws, but some of them were a bit older too.

As soon as she was seated, it seemed like everyone had a question for her.

“I distinctly remember seeing you in like 3 of my classes last year, how was that even possible?”

“I heard you crafted a perfect Polyjuice Potion in your second year, is that true?”

“I’ve been wondering for some time… What exactly does ‘Cool Logic in the Face of Fire’ mean?

Hermione felt a bit overwhelmed, but she held her own and engaged quite successfully. She has no idea other students, especially from another house were interested in talking to her, or rather, about her. It was nice, but also a bit much.

She turned to the girl next to her and casually shifted the topic away from herself. “What is it that you’re reading?”

The conversation then turned to books, then different spells and charms, then thoughts about upcoming lessons. Hermione never had conversations like this with the boys at the Gryffindor table. She was enjoying it quite a bit.

“May I ask…” she said tentatively. “If you all wanted to talk to me, why haven’t you asked me to sit with you before?”

“Honestly,” one of the girls shrugged, “we thought you wouldn’t want to.”

“Yeah, you always seem preoccupied with Harry Potter," another added.

“And Ron Weasley.”

“Are you dating him by the way?”

Hermione blushed at the question. “No, definitely not! They’re just my best friends.”

“Also, you seem to think you’re better than all of us – sorry!” The girl grimaced. “That was rude. My therapist says I tend to project my insecurities.”

“Therapist?” Hermione questioned. “I didn’t realize the magic world believed in –”

“Oh, no, they don’t!” she laughed. “But I’m muggle-born. Like you!”

“Oh! I… I didn’t know! Well, it’s a pleasure to know you. All of you, really!”

“You, see?” Fleur’s voice took over suddenly.

Hermione had felt her presence a few moments earlier but was too inundated with discussion to look up at her until then. “Zis is why we do not make assumptions, non?”

Fleur sat between two other Beauxbatons students. She was looking straight at Hermione.

“Oh!” One of the French students looked at her pensively, “You are ze petite –”

“’Er name is “Ermione,” Fleur interrupted her friend before she could utter whatever diminutive term she was thinking, as they all seemed to love to do.

“You’re so right, of course, Fleur!” One of the boys at the table said. He seemed transfixed. Hermione recognized him.

“Aren’t you the Ravenclaw Quidditch Seeker?”

“Roger Davies,” he stated proudly, shifting attention back to Hermione. “At your service! So why did it take you so long to accept our invitation?”

“I dunno, I thought you didn’t like me!” Hermione responded. “Because I’m… well…”

“A nerd?” The muggle-born girl responded. “We all are here!”

The group laughed.

“Oh! That’s it isn’t it!” another said. “You like being the smart one! No offense to Gryffindor, but…” he grimaced as he looked over at Hermione’s friends at the Gryffindor table. They all fell into laughter once more.

“I’ll have you now,” Hermione said protectively, “There are many very brilliant Gryffindors. And anyway, books and cleverness are not the most important things!”

“There it is! It’s that Gryffindor loyalty. Did that answer your question, Terry?”

“What question?”  Hermione huffed.

“I’ve just always wondered why you weren’t one of us…” he said, staring wistfully at her. She hadn’t really noticed how he was looking at her until now.

“Oh, I see…”

She looked up at Fleur who seemed to be watching her carefully. Her face seemed to say, ‘I told you so’ before she abruptly stood up. “We must go now. Au revoir everybody. Let’s go, ‘Ermione.”

“Oh!” Hermione waved and followed her out. “It was lovely meeting you all, goodbye now.”

“Well, that was rather nice,” Hermione admitted as they walked out into the courtyard.

“I told you,” Fleur smirked.

“So… why did we leave? Where are we going?”

“All your new friends were monopolizing you!” Fleur replied in a frustrated tone.

“I don’t know if I would call them friends, we’ve only just met, after all and – Wait what do you mean by that?" Hermione paused their walking to ask. "Were you upset?”

“Non!" Fleur said plainly. "Zey were just taking ALL your attention and I wanted to 'ave you to myself for a bit.” 

“Oh…” Hermione smiled to herself as Fleur offered her arm to loop around and the two continued walking across the grounds. "I see."

She wasn’t sure what to make of this new friendship, and why Fleur even wanted to spend time with her. She just knew that she liked it. She liked receiving special attention from her.  She liked that every new encounter further satisfied the longing she felt to be around her and know her more.

Their hangouts became more routine after that. They studied together at the library and took walks outside. Hermione would join Fleur at the Ravenclaw table for lunch every so often, making sure she paid sufficient attention to Fleur so she would not feel disregarded.

She still sat with the boys at breakfast. And she was still prioritizing her focus on helping Harry think through their questions and figure out his first task. However, her new friendship didn’t go unnoticed.

“You better be careful with all that consorting with the enemy, Hermione.”

“Don’t be jealous, Ron,” She was used to it by now. “If you want to talk to Fleur, go ahead.”

“It’s not that!” Ron tried to hide his reddening cheeks. “It’s about Harry and the tournament!”

“Oh,” Harry said, caught off guard, “I don’t mind at all. I think it’s nice, actually.”

“We don’t even talk about the tasks.” She continued defending herself to Ron.

“What do you talk about then?”

“What is it to you?” She slammed her book and stared at him, daring him to answer.

Harry just laughed. He had no problem with Hermione spending time with his competitor. The three older Champions had all been relatively kind to him. Plus, Hermione seemed to really enjoy the new friendship, which put her in a much better mood to deal with him and Ron. She even left them unchaperoned with her homework sometimes, instead of sitting with them to ensure they had properly understood, as she had done in the past. It was nice to see her so mindful of her own time for a chance, and it just so happened to be related to Fleur most of the time.

The two girls had made it a habit of lying out by the lake at least once a week when they had an early day. They would stare out into the black water and talk, usually, about their days. Hermione might bring up lessons she was excited about, and Fleur mostly complained about Hogwarts not being as challenging as Beauxbatons. Hermione didn’t take it personally anymore; she knew the girl was just homesick. Instead, she used the opportunity to ask about advanced spells and charms, curious about differences in their curriculum and customs. The French girl was more than happy to impart her wisdom and engage in stimulating conversation, both impressed by each other’s interests and acumen.

“Come to my carriage.” Fleur said one night.

“What?” Hermione had never been to the Beauxbatons carriages before. She had seen them from outside of course but had never been invited in.

They did not spend time in each other’s dormitories. It felt like a silent agreement between them, one that felt safe to Hermione who worried that her feelings might be a bit more than platonic. She worried that the magnetic pull she felt was for more than just friendship with her captivating friend.

“I ‘ave somezing I want to show you!” Fleur said excitedly.

“Okay then,” Hermione hesitantly agreed. She felt her stomach doing flips.

The problem was that she was unsure of Fleur’s intentions. The older girl’s treatment vacillated between a kind of peer mentorship, which felt incredibly special and of great value to Hermione, and what seemed like flirtation, especially with how physically affectionate Fleur could be. She was always looping arms or touching Hermione’s arm or back, kissing her cheeks or nudging her side.

The things she said could also be confusing, complimenting and challenging her when it came to academics, and at times protective, even possessive when it came to other people. Hermione wondered if it was all just a French thing. Or a Veela thing.

She was keenly aware of the fact that Fleur was part Veela, and the powerful affects that could have on wizards, and apparently witches. She had long assumed the pull she felt towards her was related to her Veela blood and Hermione did not want to make a fool of herself. So, she kept her thoughts and feelings back, appreciating the friendship for what it was and not expecting more than what was offered.

But being alone with Fleur in a public space was one thing, just the idea of going to her dormitory caused a flurry of feelings and sensations, making her question her fortitude.

Despite the concerns, she followed her to the carriages, focusing on questions and conversation topics she could bring up while there. As long as they kept a safe conversation going, it should be fine.

“Salut Domnique!” Fleur called as she pulled Hermione inside. The interior of the carriage was beautiful, and much larger than it appeared from the outside. Hermione had assumed it would be, much like other magical dwellings, but it was still astonishing to witness the grandeur firsthand.

They traversed the common area and headed into one of the rooms.

“Salut, Fleur,” a bored looking girl looked up from her desk as they stepped inside. The room was separated in two distinct sections.  

“Domnique, you know ‘Ermione by now. ‘Ermione, Dominique is my roommate.”

“Of course, nice to see you again, Dominique.” Hermione greeted her. Dominique shot her a quick smile in reply.

 “And she is leaving now,” Fleur added with a not-so-subtle glance towards her friend.

“I am?” the girl responded. She did not seem like she was planning on going anywhere.

“Oui! You are! Allez-y!” Fleur waved her off.

“Ugh. Bien sûr, Delacour!”

Fleur waited for her to leave before patting the bed on the other side of the room, gesturing for Hermione to take a seat.

“What did you want to show me?” Hermione asked, sitting down nervously.

“Ah, oui! Un moment.” She began rifling thought things on and under her desk. Hermione was surprised to see that the room was not as immaculate or pristine as she would have expected. It was quite messy actually, with books and clothes strewn about. Especially Fleur’s side. Hermione tried to keep her eyes on her lap, not wanting to appear nosy or critical of her surroundings.

“Feel free to look around petit souris,” Fleur called from the corner, still searching. “I can feel your curiosity ready to burst from all ze way ‘ere.”

Hermione rolled her eyes, though she immediately began to investigate now that she was granted explicit permission. She had been holding back the compulsion to do so after all.  

She was surprised to see ‘Hogwarts, A History’ on the bedside table. Had Fleur been reading this since Hermione brought it up?

“You were right.” Fleur nodded towards the book, “Zaire is a lot about ‘Ogwarts I deed not know. I still think it is pretty ‘orrible!” she added in response to Hermione’s pleased expression. “But I can appreciate it much more now. Thank you for zat perspective.”

“You’re welcome… though I must confess,” Hermione’s smile turned to a frown. “I have recently questioned that particular perspective and have become quite disappointed in Bathilda Bagshot.”

“Oh?”

“Not one mention in the whole book about House Elves! I made sure to do a full reread and have written several letters to Ms. Bagshot about the issue. Still no response.”

“Ah!” Fleur nodded in understanding. She did not look surprised. “It is as you said before, non? We must do our own diligence, especially when it comes to ze biasees towards non-‘uman magical creatures, those considaired… lesser species.”

Hermione nodded in agreement. It had been quite a blow to realize how bigoted and discriminatory the wizarding world could be. It definitely impacted her initial admiration and respect.  Hermione also wondered if Fleur might be talking about her own experience as a Veela. She did not know much about their history herself. Between her coursework and research for Harry, she hadn’t had much time to research the subject, though the few times she did try she had come up empty.

“Voila!” Fleur cheered as she pulled Hermione back to her bed and handed her a book.

“What is this?”

“C’est Beauxbatons! Open it!” Fleur urged.

Hermione opened the book, revealing a dazzling hologram. The words L'académie de Magie de Beauxbâtons encircled a beautifully illuminated castle.

“It’s beautiful!” Hermione studied the structure, turning the book at different angles to admire it from all sides.

“You see?” Fleur smiled, filled with pride and enthusiasm to show off her school. “And look!” She shifted closer to Hermione so their legs were touching, allowing the book to fall over both their laps. “You can see much more of the palace.”

Hermione felt a thrill of curiosity and excitement, both from learning something new and extraordinary, as well as from the feeling of Fleur’s body leaning so closely against hers. She had positioned herself in a way that did not leave any personal space between them, creating moments of soft grazing as she pointed out various structures around the grounds and identified some of her favorite places.

Hermione could feel Fleur speaking right beside her, could feel her breath against her temple. The position kept her frozen, unable to turn to look at her for fear of how close their faces would be.

“’Ermione,” Fleur whispered in an amused tone. “Look up!”

“Oh! Oh wow!” Hermione gazed up and found herself inside of the Beauxbatons palace itself! She slowly turned in a circular motion to gaze at the beautiful architecture around her, gasping in surprise when she found Fleur standing proudly beside her. “How are we in – ?”

“Magique!” Fleur laughed.

“It is an enchantment reserved for vairy few people,” she explained. “Access is limited to zose given explicit permission, as I ‘ave. I may allow uzzers access as well, as long as I accompany zem.”

Hermione realized this must be why she had been sitting so close to her earlier. Despite the slight disappointment from the realization, it was still a very special and unique gift to have Fleur share something like this with her. “This is amazing, Fleur, truly!”

“Turn ze page,” Fleur persisted. “You can wander ze ‘alls and see many more amazing zings.”

“How do you mean?” Hermione looked down at her hands and found herself suddenly back on Fleur’s bed, still very close with the book on their laps. “Amazing!” No matter how long she had studied and been in this world, the magic would never cease to amaze Hermione.

Fleur showed her around the school and across the grounds, transporting them throughout the palace with just a flip of a page.

“Thank you for showing this to me, Fleur.” Hermione said once they had returned to the room again. “I feel very honored.”

“You are vairy welcome ‘Ermione,” Fleur beamed. “I was so excited when it arrived so I could show it to you.”

“You had this sent for me?”

“Mais oui! I asked my muzzer to send over my copy right away. But it took 'er a while… she can nevair find anyzing in my room!”

“Oh,” Hermione muffled a laugh as she looked around the space. “I cannot imagine why that might be!”

“What are you trying to say!?” Fleur gasped at the insinuation.

“Oh, nothing at all!” Hermione felt more confident facing her now, somehow less afraid of the short distance that had remained between them despite being done with the book. “Though I’m pretty sure there’s a spell that could help with your…” she pointed around them, “situation.”

“I ‘ave not ‘ad ze time,” Fleur shrugged. “I ‘ave been kept very busy with my studies and my training… and uzzer things…”

“Is that so?” Hermione questioned. “And what are these other things keeping you, Beauxbatons prefect, Triwizard Champion from cleaning your room?”

“Per’aps I am a little distracted.”

She placed a hand on Hermione’s leg. Hermione looked up at her. They were already so close to each other. She could feel the pull, urging her towards Fleur. To her lips. She leaned in to close the distance.

"Oh," Fleur gasped and immediately retreated.

“Oh, no.” Hermione’s eyes widened as the misunderstanding set in. “I’m sorry. I –”

“Merde. Euh…” Fleur was standing suddenly, “C’est bon… It is okay.”

“I don’t know what came over me,” Hermione stammered. “I… I felt… I thought…”

“It is okay,” Fleur repeated. “I did not mean for you to –”

Hermione suddenly felt angry. She looked up at Fleur in confusion. “Did you…?

“It is okay, ‘Ermione, I –”

“What did you do to me!?”

“Quoi!?” Fleur looked outraged at the accusation. “J'ai rien fait! I did not do anyzing to you!”

“I have to go!” Hermione stormed off. “Please, just leave me alone!”