Evanora

Half-Blood Prince: Fleur meets 'Arry again

Phlegm came into the room just as I finished my comment about how annoying she is. Ginny was defending her, but Hermione was on my side. Ron was not, of course. Fleur treated me like I was three, the way she talked to me, just because I wasn't part Veela and it drove me nuts. Harry instinctively pulled up the covers to his chin so hard that I got knocked off his bed, but then sat down again. I'd like to say that I have good looks, but her beauty outshines mine. At least I wasn't annoying. Fleur gave Harry a tray of breakfast, and I started to grow jealous of her looks as Harry locked his gaze on her. He had to be so obvious in front of everyone, when I was already close to winning him over. I resisted the urge to stand up and leave the room, and kept my face calm, but when Harry blankly said 'oh' after Fleur told him about her wedding, my brows flickered in confusion, my jaw tensed, and I looked away. Hermione and I exchanged glances. When Hermione left, Ron commented that Mrs. Weasley hated Fleur, even though she denied this, and said the wedding was just too rushed, even though Bill and Fleur have known each other for a year. I wouldn't blame her, Fleur was annoying. When she slapped me unintentionally with her silvery sheets of hair, my muscles flared in my neck.

I started to call Fleur Phlegm, and Mrs. Weasley snapped at me whereas Hermione and Harry laughed.

The next day, Hermione and I ranted about Phlegm, and then Ron began to defend her. And Harry joined in.

"Tonks is naturally beautiful, and I don't see why Bill falling for her couldn't be a possibility!" I said.

"Not recently, she's been looking more like Moaning Myrtle," Ron said.

"She still hasn't gotten over what happened. . . you know. . . he was her cousin," Hermione said slowly. The conversation began to build on Sirius, and I felt like throwing up a bit of the food in my stomach. Not that I felt sick to my stomach, but sick of this feeling and this conversation. I had lots to say, including a dark remark directed towards Harry implying that if Tonks looked bad, then so did I, and that that would explain Phlegm. But I held all of this in, unable to say anything for a lump built in my throat. I eventually breathed deep and clearly, and could smell the radiant lemon scent of my newly washed clothes and my hair conditioner, matching scents. I looked out toward the glowing sun, my skin radiating and my freckles popping out brilliantly. Of course, I could not see myself, but everyone else could if they looked and this is what they would see, the exact opposite kind of beauty as Fleur. I had a sun-kissed look and straight brown hair, grown-out side-bangs, a sloped nose rounded at the end, a few freckles swept across my cheekbones and the bridge of my nose, and grey eyes just like Sirius's.

:::::

We got our O.W.L results back the same day. Hermione was freaking out. Everyone was nervous but me.

"You can't be serious, can you?" I said, calmly, looking at the pacing Hermione, and then at nervous Harry and Ron. There were other things to worry about, far worse things that had happened than O.W.Ls, for example Sirius-- my stomach sank a bit as I realized that I said serious while thinking about Sirius. Hermione whirled around and they all looked at me oddly. I kept my expression.

"There are far other things to worry about." Hermione looked like I was insane. "They're just grades. They don't mean anything, at least not anymore" I mumbled the last bit: "now that we don't have a future. . ." I said while looking out toward the orange/yellow sky hovering above the meadow through the window. There was a war coming, I knew it, and everyone else did but didn't come to terms with it like I did. Hermione and Ron ignored what I said, but Harry kept his gaze confusedly at me. "This place is beautiful," I said to the window, a bit louder this time. Hermione screamed. There were four owls flying toward the Burrow.

Everyone was so nervous that I had to help them all detach the letters from the owl. I found it funny that Harry, one of the bravest guys I knew, looked nervous. These were my grades: