Three Hallows, Two Weasleys and One Broken Girl

Chapter 1: Comme une Fleur

It's the 6th of September, and here is the first chapter.
I hope you like it!

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Hogwarts castle was ugly, cold, untidy and easily a thousand years out of date decorating wise.
That was Fleur Delacour's opinion anyway.

She almost wished she'd stayed in France; the idea of spending an entire nine months in this dusty and disheveled place made her feel ill.
Then again, the Triwizard tournament was a lure few of age could resist, and the appeal to have achieved something that no one could blame on her looks, was irresistible. She glared back at one of the paintings which was certainly not looking at her face, before strengthening her resolve and following her headmistress into the apparently 'great' hall.

She would grant them that the enchanted ceiling was very impressive, not missing the flicker of envy on her school mistresses' face at the sight, but it was entirely wasted on the horrid grey stone room. And were the students wearing black tents? She thought they were just coats when they arrived but apparently the shapeless cloth was supposed to be a uniform. How unfashionable. Then again, this was a British school, her standards had already been low.

She locked eyes with a grubby looking ginger boy, and watched disdainfully as he drooled onto his empty plate. She rarely knew a gaze that wasn't lustful or jealous. And though she noted a few disinterested people among the crowd, it seemed like she was in for another year of objectification, prejudice, and harassment.
Still she danced with her school mates. Allowing herself to enjoy the music and forget the ever present eyes for once. This was an opportunity she'd tolerate five hundred stupid teenage boys to get. And since these were prudish English boys, she could hope most wouldn't have the balls to do more than admire from afar.

Her fellow Beauxbatons students gravitated to the table where the Hogwarts students had blue ties. She'd heard the school had a house system sorted based on values. She felt it was odd to set people in houses based on what they valued at eleven, but it wasn't worth over analysing. She could guess from the number of books on the table despite the foreign guests, that this was the nerd house. Perhaps they'd have more tact than the ones with red ties.

Due to getting lost in thought she'd not paid much attention to her choice of seat, just away from her peers and any males whose expressions she didn't trust. As a result she found herself settled opposite a very strange looking woman.
A complete tousled untameable mess of blonde hair, the kind her classmates would get nightmares about having, which appeared to be tied back with...string? The face underneath was pretty though, oval with sharp cheek bones and soft lips set in a knowing Mona Lisa smile. No make up or spell work involved, which was unusual, but a pleasant change despite the small scattering of spots on her temples and cheeks no teen can avoid.

Fleur called the girl weird for three reasons.
The first was the radish earrings she was wearing - literal fist sized radishes on chains from her ears. The second was an unflattering rainbow striped cardigan she wore under her robes, poorly knitted with a cat that looked like it had just escaped a war zone on the front.
The third reason was more instinctual. Her eyes, the deepest most vibrant indigo. When they met her own, a shiver ran down her spine. Veela instincts manifested in many ways, but one was the ability to sense how powerful other people were. Not specifically magically powerful, any kind of gravity a person held could be sensed. And this girl was giving an off the chart reading. Fleur had met the Magical Minister of France and this girl held more power than him, or the puppeteers nearby that held his strings.

The woman seemed indifferent to gazes regularly sent her way from boys and girls on her table. But she was watching Fleur with an intense stare that made her hair on the back of her neck rise.
"W-w-what...." she stammered, terrified of what dark wisdom, or judgement this woman would impart. She wished she'd found somewhere else to sit. Suddenly Hogwarts itself didn't seem worth this stress.
The mysterious woman smiled.
"You have a lovely hat." She informed her in a lilting absentminded voice.