At that moment, a voice obviously French, trying to speak clear English, interrupted them, "Excuse me, are you wanting ze Crème brûlée?"
Lucifer looked up and saw that it was the girl who had given the derisive laugh in the middle of Dumbledore's speech. She had finally removed her muffler, and it was revealed that a beautiful, long sheet of 'silvery-blonde' hair fell almost to her waist. 'Is that hair colour so common among Veela sisters? Her name should be Fleur right? Wait a second, wasn't she that girl Gabrielle Delacour's, her head was radish before?'
She had large, deep blue eyes, and very white, even teeth. It was noticeable against her snow white skin when her cheeks blushed. '---they took care of Eve in the Vosges Mountains, Ah, and here I am, who sent their 'father' to prison. Is Madam still being comforted by an Uncle? Should I return the favour? It's like they had taken the place of Valentine's family in this time-----'
Hermione noticed it was because she looked right at Lucifer. She decided this girl would also perish in a very painful death.
Ron, however, went purple. He stared up at her, opened his mouth to reply, but nothing came out except for a faint gurgling noise. Lucifer stood up, the Crème brûlée in hand, and handed it over to her, "It's yours."
Hermione saw the girl look up at him, craning her neck much like she had to usually do.
"Y-You 'ave finished wiz it?" The Beauxbatons girl said, the slight stutter not escaping Hermione at all.
"Yeah," Ron said breathlessly, "Yeah, it was excellent."
"Don't mind him, he doesn't know how to act properly around beautiful women. Besides, I would like to thank you for taking proper care of Eve, when I couldn't," Lucifer said boldly.
Fleur nodded her head, "Eve's good friend. She told me many Szories about you"
"Did, she now?" he said giving a wink towards said person. Many eyes followed him discreetly, accompanied by hushed gossip about the previous drama. It wasn't just Hogwarts students, even those from Beauxbatons were sizing him up, whispering to their friends.
"Eve, is he your boyfriend?" The freckled girl beside her, Emily Weir asked curiously,
"Of course not. Where did you hear that?" Eve nearly spat out her milk.
"But everyone's saying it," But Emily's gaze remained fixed on Lucifer as well, "They say you tried to stop him from leaving but he dumped you in France...." She even clicked her tongue twice, "A bit young, but so handsome..."
She completely missed her friend's darkening expression.
Hermione's heart was thumping loudly and she clutched her knives tightly and glared at her. 'Not another one!' She looked around and saw many other glaring at the Beauxbatons girl.
"Zat is very kind of you to say. Zank you for zis," Fleur said, smiling kindly to him, and walked carefully back to the Ravenclaw table with the dish in hand, to stop the girls before it spiraled out of bounds.
Lucifer sat back down, acting like absolutely nothing happened.
Hermione couldn't believe him at that moment, acting like he didn't just do anything wrong at all and destroyed her already 'fragile soul' with one sentence. She knew she was plain and not pretty but was a good slut to her Master, a good pet! 'Had these girls always been such wild? What on earth was I doing in France, I couldn't learn any seductive tricks!' She only remained annoyed for a short while before regaining her composure.
She knew that the more attention she paid in glaring, the more people would believe Lucifer was still harping on Eve. The best approach was to ignore entirely, soon enough, new gossip would replace the old.
"She's definitely a Veela!" Ron said hoarsely to Harry.
Hermione tried hard to maintain her newfound composure herself, but voice was a little shaky when she responded, "Well, if she is, she's obviously not a Full Veela. Every guy but Lucifer would be drooling over her. Instead, it's just you and a few other boys...."
"Weasely never was of strong mind," Lucifer said casually as he continued eating.
"Look who's arrived," She said, pointing up to the staff table. He looked and saw that her earlier prediction had in 'fact' been correct; Ludo Bagman and Bartemius Crouch Sr. had arrived and were now sitting down at the staff table.
"I guess you were right, Hermione," Harry said.
"Never second-guess Granger," Lucifer said with a smirk.
She felt her face burning from his words but she won't be letting sweet words get to her. She needed to mark him again. When the second course arrived, there was an insurmountable number of Desserts most of them had never seen or heard of.
Ron ended up pushing one of the odd looking Desserts over to his right a few inches so that it was in view of the Ravenclaw table, but the girl that was believed to be a Veela didn't come back to the table.
Instead, another Beauxbatons girl from the Ravenclaw table walked up.
"Excuse me," she said in rougher English than the first girl.
Lucifer looked up and saw she was looking right at him. "A-Are you feeneeshed wiz zat?" She asked, her long platinum blonde hair resting on both her shoulders, giving her a glowing, graceful appearance.
He gave a half-smile and nodded, "It's yours if you want it," he said kindly and Ron lifted it up to hand to her.
Hermione noticed that the girl reluctantly took it, a slightly disgusted look on her face as she accepted it from Ron, and deliberately turned back to her boyfriend.
"Zank you," and walked back to the Ravenclaw table.
She watched as that bimbo began talking with other Beauxbatons girls around her and they each giggled, glancing back over at them, specifically her Lucifer. But he was busy eating some kind of dessert Hermione didn't recognize, so he didn't see them looking at him.
Once the golden plates and goblets had been emptied, Dumbledore stood up again. A pleasant sort of tension seemed to fill the Hall again. Lucifer sat there in anticipation, waiting to see what their Headmaster had to say about the Tournament.
"The moment has come," he said, smiling around at the sea of upturned faces, "the 'Triwizard Tournament' is about to start. I would like to say a few words of explanation before we bring in the casket-"
"The what?" Harry asked stupified.
"---just to clarify the procedure that we will be following this year. But first, let me introduce, for those who do not know them, Mr. Bartemius Crouch, 'Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation," Dumbledore said, and there was a smattering of polite applause
"And Mr. Ludo Bagman, Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports."
There ended up being a much louder round of applause for Bagman than Crouch, and Hermione remembered that he used to be on a Quidditch Team, so it was either that, or because he looked more friendly and likable than Crouch Sr did.
"Mr. Bagman and Mr. Crouch have worked tirelessly over the last few months on the arrangements for the Triwizard Tournament," Dumbledore continued, pleased with students enthusiasm, "And they will be joining myself, Professor Karkaroff, and Madame Maxime on the panel that will judge the champions' efforts."
At the word 'champions', attentiveness of everyone in the hall seemed to sharpen. Dumbledore seemed to notice their sudden stillness, for he smiled and said, "The Casket, then, if you please, Mr. Filch."
Argus Filch, who had been lurking unnoticed in a far corner of the Hall, now approached Dumbledore carrying a great wooden chest encrusted with jewels. It looked several centuries old, and a murmur of excited interest arose from the watching students.
"The instructions for the tasks the champions will face this year have already been examined by Mr. Crouch and Mr. Bagman," Dumbledore said as Filch placed the chest carefully on the table before him, "And they have made the necessary arrangements for each challenge. There will be three tasks, spaced throughout the school year, and they will test the champions in many different ways... their magical prowess, daring, powers of deduction---and, of course, their ability to cope with 'danger."
Dumbledore glanced around at every student, and Lucifer could only imagine their faces, "As you know, three champions compete in the tournament," he went on calmly.
"One from each of the participating schools. They will be marked on how well they perform each of the Tournament tasks and the champion with the highest total after task three will win the Triwizard Cup."
"The champions will be chosen by an impartial selector: The Goblet of Fire!"
Dumbledore took out his wand and tapped three times upon the top of the casket. The lid creaked slowly open; he reached inside it and pulled out a large, roughly hewn wooden cup.
It would have been entirely unremarkable had it not been full to the brim with dancing blue-white flames.

Dumbledore closed the casket and placed the goblet carefully on the top of it, where it would be clearly visible to everyone in the Hall, "Anybody wishing to submit themselves as champion must write their name and school clearly upon a slip of parchment and drop it into the goblet."
"Aspiring Champions have twenty-four hours in which to put their names forward. Tomorrow night, Halloween, the Goblet will return names of three it has judged most worthy to represent their schools."
"The Goblet will be placed in the Entrance Hall tonight, where it will be freely accessible to all those wishing to compete."
"To ensure that no underage student yields to temptation, I will be drawing an 'Age Line' around the Goblet of Fire once it has been placed in the Entrance Hall. Nobody under the age of Seventeen will be able to cross the line," he said, taking a moment to glance around at them.
"Finally, I wish to impress upon any of you wishing to compete that this tournament is not to be entered into lightly. Once a champion has been selected by the Goblet of Fire, he or she is obliged to see the tournament through to the end. The placing of your name in the Goblet constitutes a 'binding, magical contract.' There can be no change of heart once you have become a champion."
"Please be very sure, therefore, that you are wholeheartedly prepared to play before you drop your name into the goblet. Now, I think it is time for bed. Good night to you all!"
"An Age Line!" Fred said, his eyes glinting, as they all made their way across the hall to the doors into the Entrance Hall.
"Well, that should be fooled by an 'Aging Potion', shouldn't it? And once your name's in that goblet, you're laughing--it can't tell whether you're Seventeen or not!"
"He's half correct, maybe you could ask an older student," Lucifer said, getting stuck behind some Third Years as they cut across in front of him, so Fred didn't hear what he said.
He heard Hermione say something, but she ended up getting out of earshot as he tried to get back up to them, but it seemed like anyone and everyone was just cutting in front of him for no reason.
He gave it a brief thought, and if he wanted to, he could just part everyone and walk casually like nothing was wrong, but he didn't want to be 'feared,' not by his fellow Hogwarts Students at least.
As he was trying to push his way through the crowd, he felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned and saw the girl who had come up to the Gryffindor Table and had asked for the Dessert, "'ello, I was wondering eef I could talk to you before you go to bed for ze night?"
"Sure," he followed her over to the side, standing against the wall and out of the way of the crowd, "What's up?"
She turned and her cheeks were noticeably pink, "I was wondering eef I could have your autograph?"
"Sure," He said, taking her quill and wrote his name on the sleeves of her robes.
"'hank you. My name iz Madeleine Bouchard. Eet ees very nice to meet you, Lucifer," She said his name in a weird way, "Zank you for letting me 'ave ze Plum Clafouti ear---"
"Madeleine! Il est temps de partir!" Madame Maxime hollered over to her, as they were ready for dormitory.
"Juste une minute! Real queeck, before I go, may I ask 'ow old you are?"
"More than 13.8 bil--- 'years' old, how about you?"
"...I'm going to be Sixteen at ze end of November," She smiled and quickly looked back at her fellow Beauxbatons before she turned back, gave him a quick peck on the cheek and hurried off.
Lucifer touched the spot and went on his way for boys Dormitory whistling, oblivious to his girlfriend, Hermione, she had already pulled some of her hairs out in anger and frustration of the whole day. She 'had' to.
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