The Dangers Of A Curious Mind | Onhold

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The winds picked up and leaves threw themselves from the trees as the weeks passed. Temperatures plummeted further and rain perpetually beat against the worn stone blocks of the Hogwarts castle.

Hermione frowned at her own reflection in a window. It was barely evening and it was already so dark outside, the windows reflected her own face back at her. Her expression looked so serious, framed by her wild and unruly curls. She was more pale and her hair was missing some of the lighter highlights it usually had, a result of the lack of sun. But it had the effect of giving her a solemness that echoed how she felt inside.

It had been a couple of weeks since the evening she fell asleep cuddling with Fleur and she wasn't sure what to make of the whole thing. It seemed a trivial thing, really, worrying about a pretty girl's feelings towards herㅡ particularly when Harry was facing potential harm with the Tournament.

That evening it had seemed like Fleur was finally beginning to bring her icy walls down. Hermione had felt the closest to her since the revelation of her terrible research project. If Hermione shut her eyes, she could still feel the warmth of creamy pale skin against her, the light floral scent emanating from platinum blonde hair.

Hermione shook her head, turning away from the window in the Gryffindor Common Room.

"Hermione?" Harry called out. He was nearby, on an overstuffed couch, but his voice seemed to come from a mile away.

"Leave her be, mate." Ron replied to Harry, "You know she's been nothing but broody and melodramatic the past few weeks."

Hermione's eyebrow twitched at that, still easily irritated, even though her mind was elsewhere.

She wasn't sure why, but Fleur had put a distance back between them since the night they had cuddled together in bed. It was different to the angry distance of before. Fleur was still perfectly cordial, offering a polite greeting or a slight smile when she saw her in the halls. But she hadn't sought her out, hadn't asked for another English lesson, hadn't lingered for more than a 'hello' with Hermione.

The brunette had, of course, discreetly tried to glean information from Gabrielle, the mini-Fleur still appearing frequently in the library and around the castle to spend time with her. Unfortunately, whatever had changed Fleur was also a mystery to the small girl, who offered no insight at all into Fleur's distance towards Hermione.

Hermione was trying not to let it get to her. After all, all she had wanted was for Fleur not to be angry with her, right?

Still, it stung. That, and Hermione couldn't help but feel a hot prickling at the back of her neck every time she saw Viktor lean close to the blonde, constantly whispering quiet words into her ear.

Rita Skeeter had even picked up on the two champions' new closeness, posting a photograph of the two outside the castle, Viktor bundling Fleur up in his own bearskin cloak to protect her from the cold. Hermione knew Rita wrote nothing but rubbish, but the photograph had still made her jaw tense and her teeth grind.

Ron, in his own clumsy way, had tried to cheer her up about the entire situation. He reasoned that if Hermione were to lose out on a girl she liked, surely it may as well be to a handsome, famous athlete? Shockingly, this did little to balm the burn Hermione felt inside.

"What if the Second Task is during winter?" Harry queried, looking past Hermione at the black windows, "How am I supposed to stand swimming in the cold?"

Hermione's chest clenched at the memory of Fleur's sensitivity to cold and to bodies of water. She frowned, turning back to look at the boys.

"Warming charm, mate." Ron said, folding his arms behind his head as if it were as simple as that, "Sorted."