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It was when Fleur sent the fifth potential suitor away, his face dejected and his request denied, that her fellow classmates in powder blue finally spoke up.
« You know, Fleur, you wouldn’t be having this problem if you just secured your own date to the Yule Ball. » Antoine raised an eyebrow at his blonde friend. He gestured to the crowded courtyard they had attempted to cross twenty minutes ago but were still noticeably stuck in the middle of. « It’s only been two days since it was announced but I feel like it’s almost impossible to go anywhere without one of your admirers popping out of the woodwork to ask you out! »
The blonde in question groaned and pinched the bridge of her nose in exasperation.
« It’s not that easy, Antoine! I don’t simply want to go with just anyone to this ball. »
The redhead next to her giggled and gently nudged the other girl with her elbow.
« Of course you don’t, you would rather go with that girl you have been eying, non? »
The part-Veela blushed to the roots of her hair and swatted at her friend, the anger in her eyes would’ve been intimidating if not for how she sputtered in embarrassment.
« Shut it, Giselle! Don’t say it so loud! »
« Why? We’re speaking French, who would understand us? » Giselle gestured to the rest of the courtyard, where many of its current occupants seemed busy with their own social bubbles. « Seriously Fleur, just ask her out and give the rest of us some peace! It’s that curly haired witch that’s often in the library, right? »
There was an indignant huff and a scowl from the cornered blonde as she addressed her two pushy best friends.
« Like I said, it’s not that easy! » Fleur exclaimed, but the lone male of the trio waved his hand like he was dismissing her worries outright. He probably was.
« I think you’re just making excuses. What could possibly be so complicated about this? »
« Look, it’s not like I can go up to her and say ‘Ermione Granger, I think you are super adorable and brilliant beyond compare. Please be my date for the ball because I really like you!’ » Fleur threw her hands up in the air and her voice got steadily louder and louder as her statement went on. It was only after she finished did she realize that the entire courtyard had gotten uncomfortably quiet, and were all looking at the three French students in the center.
One particular student in yellow and black trimmed robes cleared his throat awkwardly and turned to the foreign students.
« Um… you know that some of us speak French, right? »
Several others also nodded and gave the three a combination of annoyed and amused looks. Before Fleur and her two friends could sheepishly apologize for their embarrassingly inaccurate assumption, a quiet voice piped up behind them.
“... you like me?”
The part-Veela froze for a second in horror before she spun around and spotted a very familiar brunette. Hermione had an arm full of books, and a bag packed to the brim with more. It was clear she had been on her way to the library, likely to return and exchange many of the tomes in her possession.
But for once her favorite place in all of Hogwarts was forgotten in favor of staring at panicked blue eyes.
It seemed like Hermione Granger was also in the camp of black robed students that knew French, who knew?
Fleur certainly did now, and it seemed like there was no backing out of this now.
“Erm… yes, that is true.” The foreign tongue felt scratchy in her throat, but she pressed on. Determination began to inch up her spine, and that helped her keep the words steady. “I think you are the smartest person in this school, and that your brilliance is only matched by your compassion.”
Fleur flicked her wand at the books in the younger girl’s arms and they proceeded to float to the side and out of the way. This gave her the opening she needed to grab the surprised Gryffindor’s now free hands in her own, which grounded the blonde further and gave her just one more push of courage.
“Go to the ball with me?”
It was Hermione’s turn to blush, but she chose to look Fleur straight in the eye and smile.
« I would love to go to the ball with you, Fleur. » The French was slightly stilted, but remarkably fluent. It was like someone had learned it from a book but never had the chance to practice it in the real world. Knowing the brunette this was likely the case. « But maybe next time, be mindful of your audience? »
The laughter in the yard reminded Fleur of her earlier accidental admission and the blonde groaned and pulled Hermione into a hug. Whether it was to simply pull the brunette close or to attempt to smother herself in chocolate curls, she had yet to decide.
Behind her, Antoine and Giselle snickered at her.
« Now was that so hard? »
« Shut up, Antoine. »