The Lure of Delacour

The Princess, The Dragon, and The Granger Girl

        Hermione looks on in disgust as Ron, sitting in front of her, attempts to retell events that occurred earlier in the day with a mouthful of mashed potatoes and a turkey leg in hand. Her eyes do not stay on him for long, already feeling her appetite fading. She focuses on the people around them to see how they are fairing with this crude display whilst they eat. To her surprise, they are listening, unfazed by how the redhead continues to stuff his mouth with as much of that turkey as he can while still animating his story. Harry is on Ron's right and, although leaning a bit away to avoid any rogue meat that may escape, is listening to his friend quite intently. On his other side, Ginny just picks apart her own turkey leg quietly, seemingly immune to her brother's bad table manners after so many years of living with him. The twins are laughing beside Hermione as Ron's story of another one of Seamus' accidents comes to its climax. She narrows her eyes at them in frustration when she realizes they are laughing at their brother, not with him. If only they would stop egging Ron on, maybe she could eat in peace. She knew better than to think the mischievous duo would stop when they were clearly getting their kicks for the evening. Almost at her wit's end, Hermione starts to speak up when she is cut off by a booming voice that silences the entire dining hall.

        "Silence!"

        All of the students know that voice all too well. Dumbledore is normally a soft-spoken man. His wise tone is enough to capture anyone's attention. In the dining hall, however, even he had to bump it up a notch. With the loud roars of four different houses no one could possibly be heard without the help of magic. That is why the headmaster was standing before them with his wand softly pressed against his neck.

        The four long tables of students look on in anticipation, knowing an important announcement must be following the demand since the odd spectacle of two fellow school's arrivals this morning had yet to be explained. As Hermione scans the table holding all of Hogwart's professors a gasp gets caught in her throat. She wonders if any of her fellow Gryffindors had taken notice of the new guest that was sitting to the left of Professor McGonagall. Had she really missed a man as influential as Barty Crouch this entire time? Although there is no way he could have even taken notice of the brunette sitting yards away from him amidst the sea of green, blue, red, and yellow robes she still scolds herself for being so at ease in front of one of the Ministry of Magic's enforcers. Her mind starts to ponder the idea of stalking him out of the Great Hall after dinner to overload him with flattery and questions regarding how to work up to such a high position.

        Her thoughts are postponed as the Hall's doors slam shut. Hermione whips her head around just in time to see Filch limp as fast as his old body would allow up to the Headmaster's podium. Dumbledore's exasperation to being interrupted is promptly followed by intense whispering. Confused murmurs and amused giggles fill the room as the two go back and forth. Hermione has never liked to be the last to know something and feels an uneasy sensation creep up her neck. She takes the break in Dumbledore's speech to glance at Harry and Ron who both simultaneously give her a shrug. Then her eyes venture back up to Crouch, finally noticing the nervous tick in his habits after being drug out of her own thoughts. Her attention returns to Filch for a brief moment to see him hobble out of the Dining Hall before settling back on the man beside McGonagall. As Dumbledore begins his speech yet again, Crouch's anxiety seems to grow. It only took a minute later for Hermione to realize why his presence was necessary, although she could hardly believe her ears.

        The Triwizard Tournament was banned ages ago. How is Hogwarts hosting something so..barbaric? How is the Ministry even allowing this? The rationalized thoughts that flow through Hermione's brain are interrupted yet again by the reopening of the ginormous Hall doors, but this intrusion is far more enticing than Filch and his bum leg. As the old wood creaks open the first group of mystery guests are revealed. It is the Beauxbaton's Academy of Magic's girls grouped in their form-fitting blue uniforms accompanied by matching hats and tiny, flitting birds. As the females practically glide down the Great Hall they stop every few steps to give a sensual sigh and lean, left then right then left again. Hermione raises a brow in judgement at the provocative nature of their movements, noticing the heave of their bosoms accompanied by the sashay of their hips as they lean towards her section of the Gryffindor table. Only when she moves her eyes up and makes eye contact with a particular set of steel blue orbs does she realize just how closely she was looking at this particular girl adjacent to her. Hermione's own chocolate brown eyes are quick to dart down, though she cannot fathom a reason as to why. She was simply taking notice of how risque this whole performance is. Maybe it was the small smirk that graced the blonde girl's lips.