Champions

Down by the water

From her position at the Ravenclaw table, a very subdued Fleur cautiously observed Harry Potter. Far from the relaxed sleeping boy she had seen on the couch that morning, he was now pale and drawn, and very obviously troubled. She could not blame him in the slightest, for she looked much the same.

The Beauxbatons students had taken to ridiculing her behind her back over her dismal performance, in French of course so their rivals would not understand. But it was remarkably easy to ignore something that normally would have gotten to her before now: she had far bigger problems than some stupid Tournament! And she had no idea how to proceed!

As usual, Harry sat with his two friends. Fleur did not at all like the obnoxious redhead; she had heard the rumors he spread about his own friend after the Selection, and was well aware that he was now telling tales to anyone who would listen about how he supposedly helped to rescue her and Gabrielle. Why Harry put up with his lies was a complete mystery!

His other friend, Granger, was a different story. She was a self-assured girl, very intelligent, and was referred to in the halls of Hogwarts as "the Gryffindor know-it-all." Fleur herself had yet to see her display such behavior, however, and held out a modicum of hope that she was a better friend than the boy. Unfortunately, that was where her hopes ended.

The boy's lustful stares were not lost on her, nor was Granger's disgust with the situation. This was not promising, for most women despised her when they discovered the effect she had on their men. She herself despised it, but there was little she could do short of leaving the room!

She was certain the girl would hold it against her just like everyone else did. Would they get along? Would they fight? The last thing she wanted was to take Harry's friends from him along with everything else he was so selflessly giving up for her.

As to Harry himself, he glanced pensively in her direction from time to time, but otherwise ignored her. She was surprised to find that the reaction hurt, but there it was. Did he think her unworthy to be with? He was not like the other boys, and she somehow knew that her beauty would not help her in winning his respect.

To feel that way about a boy three years her junior was unnerving to say the least. This boy – no, this young man – had defeated challenges that she herself could barely face, and had rescued her in the process! To do so at fourteen made him a truly amazing wizard, and though she was loathe to admit it, she was somewhat in awe of him.

Her father told her of his reaction to the news, and she was very relieved, but she also felt terribly guilty for taking away his choices. A surprisingly large part of her thought she should simply allow herself to die, because it was wrong to ruin his life like this! But she was selfish enough – and scared enough – that she could not bring herself to do it.

"Stop spacing out!" hissed one of her classmates disgustedly. "You're making us look bad!"

Fleur turned and stared down her nose at the girl, making use of every single one of her long years of experience. Rather than speak, she simply met the girl's gaze, and – using a technique her father had taught her – put on the most intimidating look she could muster. Predictably, the girl quailed, and Fleur silently went back to her Harry watching.

If there was one good thing about the situation, it was that he wasn't bad looking. In fact, he was surprisingly cute! If she could convince him to get rid of those awful rags he wore on the weekends, she suspected that he would be a fine specimen, and probably earn a lot more respect than he currently had.

Didn't he realize that perception was as important as reality? It was likely one of the reasons he was picked on so frequently by the students, especially the Slytherins: he dressed like a beggar, as though his appearance meant nothing to him. It was only his occasional self-consciousness – like at the wand weighing – that told her otherwise.