Within these Shadowed Walls
By: pottersweetie
Author's Note: I'm horrible. No really, I am. I have so many things I should be doing right now; art project, studying for history test, writing the stuff I HAVE to get done, researching for my English paper, or even updating the five million other things I should be updating. But no, I'm starting something new... Like I said, I'm horrible. Anyway, this is taking place during the trio's fourth year, although you'll hardly read about them in this. It's about Fleur's experiences around and during the whole Triwizard Tournament. It is in her point of view. I don't know if anyone's ever done this before, but I'm gonna try it because Fleur is slowly becoming my favorite character... Don't ask me why. Hope you like it! Almost COMPLETELY faithful to the movie, sorry. Enjoy, Read, Review!
Chapter One
Le Jour de Chien
I hate August thirty-first.
It's the day I have to wake up early. The day I have to travel from Chateau de Printemps Mignon, my family's home in Giverny, to the hidden wizarding inn, Le Jour de Chien, where I'll stay with my family until leaving for the train station the next day. It usually feels like the hottest day of the year, with the humidity reaching unbearable levels. It's the day that makes me feel as if I can't breathe, the simple twenty-four hours that make me groan and sigh just thinking about it. I couldn't care less if I'm here or there, but I hate traveling, especially in a stuffy car, packed inside with my family members for several hours.
And unfortunately for me, today is that day.
The sun spills into my room as Sara and Patrice, two maids in our house, open all of the heavy, ornate blue flowered drapes and fasten them so they'll remain open all day. The unwelcome sunlight fills the room with an irritating brightness and warmth that I detest. I love for my room to be dark and cool when I fall asleep, and especially when I wake up.
August thirty-first, I remind myself. The only reason I'm awake at this inhuman hour.
"Mademoiselle Fleur, your mother says breakfast will be served in the Breakfast Room in an hour," Sara says, standing before my bed. "Shall I run you a bath?"
I nod, "A cold one, if you will."
"Oui mademoiselle," Sara bobs a curtsy and scurries into my bathroom to prepare the bathtub.
I close my eyes again, feeling the tiredness burn behind them. My bed is so comfortable with its silky sheets and soft quilts, my head feels light and sleepy as it rests on my swan-feather-down pillow. I yawn, arching my back and stretching my arms above my head. I then open my eyes again and see Patrice waiting to fix all the covers. I unhappily crawl out of bed and gracefully drag my feet across the cool wooden floor in my silk shorts and button-up t-shirt pajamas. Patrice immediately begins fluffing the pillows and straightening the sheets. I know all of my bedding will be washed later today, the servants just don't do those kinds of chores in front of me or the rest of the family.
As I brush my hair in front of my vanity table, peering at myself in the large mirror, Patrice begins making light conversation with me, "Are you excited to be going back to school, Mademoiselle Fleur?"
I'm going to miss my bed, I think to myself.
"Oui, I can hardly wait to see all of my friends," I answer.
Ha! All of my friends! What friends? The one or two I actually have?
I have admitted to myself long ago that I'm unpopular at the magical boarding school I attend, Beauxbatons. It's partly because Papa is extremely wealthy and has paid for the building of a new wing at the school and all the teachers are always being particularly nice to me, especially the headmistress, Madame Maxime. The other reason, is because I'm part Veela, only a quarter though. But all the girls hate me for it, no boys ever pay attention to them if I'm in the room, no teachers ever praise them if I had charmed them first... Sadly.
Jealousy, I like to reassure myself, is why I've only made one single friend in all my seven years at school.
"Your bath is ready, Mademoiselle," Sara says after emerging from the bathroom.
"Merci, Sara," I reply, as I walk across the room and into my palatial and private bathroom where I'll wake myself in a tub of frigid water, anything to prepare myself for the relentless day ahead.
The Breakfast Room is a medium-sized room on the first floor, towards the back of the house. It has a large window at the far wall, presenting a spacious view of the backyard, without showing any trace of the terrace. There are intricate tapestries hanging along the walls, and beautiful, exotic plants placed all around the room. The head of a white, male goat is mounted on one of the walls, and small, crystalline lamps run along the side table.
The table at which we eat is relatively small, fitting our four family members and a guest or two if it's needed. A small vase of bright, cheery flowers always rests at the center of the table, atop the pristine tablecloth.
Charles-Henri, or Papa as I call him, sits at the head of the table, and Catherine, Mama, sits across from him. To Papa's right, facing the opposite side of the table, sits Gabrielle, my younger sister.
This is how I find them when I enter the Breakfast Room through the narrow doorway. Of course I'm holding everyone back from being served their breakfast because it had taken me longer than I expected to get ready.
After taking a nice, cold bath I had dried myself off and magically dried my hair until it was shimmering and soft again, running all the way to my waist. I had slipped into my soft, light blue, silk robe and padded into the bedroom. It had taken me far longer than I had thought to decide what to wear, finally choosing a simple white dress, with short sleeves so Mama wouldn't scold me for showing too much skin. After pulling my hair half-up and slipping on my shoes I go downstairs as quickly as I can, finding myself, still, late.
"Ah, there is ma petite Fleur," Papa smiles brightly as I walk in, nodding to our butler to let him know it's time to start serving. "We were beginning to wonder if we should send out a search party," he teases.
I lean in and kiss him on the cheek, taking my seat immediately after.
Mama spears some fruit from a large platter presented to her by the first footman, daintily placing each individual piece into a small bowl beside her plate. Papa is presented with a rack of still-hot toasted breads and a plate of croissants, he tells them to just leave it on the table. I reach for a piece of lightly browned bread and put it on my plate. Gabrielle reaches for her crystal glass which is filled with fruit juice. Everything is very methodical, and it's all done without a word passed between anyone.
When everyone has their choice of breakfast foods on their plate Papa begins talking about how the Minister of Magic will be paying a short visit to France in September and if he isn't going to be staying as a guest in our house he would have to at least come for dinner. He takes a long sip of his cafe au lait and then licks his lips.
Papa is the French correspondent for the Ministry of Magic. He works as a sort of ambassador when Cornelius Fudge himself can't be here, relaying news and acting as a mediator for any problems or important events taking place in France. Grandpere Delacour was a rather famous Healer who had drastically improved research on curing the common cold, something wizards still can't even accomplish. He had almost succeeded, until his best friend and research partner, Guy Montnere, was pointlessly killed by a dark wizard, at which point Grandpere decided to retire to his estate in Giverny, Chateau de Printemps Mignon. Grandmere was Marguerite Enfiere, a stay-at-home mother who adored her dogs almost as much as she adored her children.
I study Papa closely, noting how severe his eyes are behind white-blond lashes. He's pale, and his dark blond hair is combed neatly. I marvel at how he's taller than me, even sitting down, and how even though he's beginning to get older and isn't as active as he once was, he's very much in shape. I muse, thinking about how desperately he had wanted a son before Gabrielle was born. But, disappointed or not, he had accepted us girls and loved us anyway.
Breakfast is quick today, everyone finishes up what they're eating and the dishes are cleared away. After polishing off our drinks Papa announces it would be better to leave now than to wait until later in the day.
"The sooner we get to Le Jour de Chien, the better."
It takes us nearly all day to get to Le Jour De Chien in Paris from Giverny. Partly because we had to make several stops along the way for bathroom breaks and because the car Papa borrowed from the Ministry for our first footmen to drive broke down for nearly an hour along the way.
What I wouldn't give to take a portkey, I think to myself. But unfortunately for the us, something about portkey travel causes Gabrielle to become nauseous and she would be retching for the remainder of the day if we had decided to get to Paris that way.
"It would be easier to use a portkey," Mama had said once. "But we don't need ma petite belle to be sick before her first day of school, do we?"
So when we finally reach Le Jour de Chien at dinnertime we're exhausted, hot, tired, and starving. We immediately go to our suite and wash-up, changing into more comfortable clothes, suitable for dining, and enjoy a large, filling dinner in the bustling dining room of the inn.
As Gabrielle sips her milky tea she asks, "Fleur, will I be frightened to be so far away from home?"
"Not at all," I respond carefully. "You'll be having so much fun you won't even think about it."
Although that isn't exactly true, because during my first year I had been homesick the whole time and had cried almost every night for a month until I had made some friends. But I'm confident my sister will feel better about school life with a family member there, and I also have faith that she'll make friends far more easily than I ever could.
Thankful that the traveling of the day is over, I enjoy the last dinner I'll be having with my family until Christmastime when Gabrielle and I will go home for a short visit. I enjoy the sound of Papa spewing out the latest, most complicated political information within the Ministry, even though half the time no one understands what he's saying. I take in the smell of Mama's perfume, absorb the feeling of being with my whole family, deciding I'll miss it, just like I have every other year.
Although everyone had agreed we would be taking our baths the next day before departing for the train station, I decide to take one before going to bed. I feel grimy and hot, somewhat sticky and disgusting and greedily spend an hour or so allowing the cool water to wash away the grit and grime of the day's travels. I lather my hair in my special, lavender scented soap and watch as the tub fills up with suds.
My thoughts swirl and float around in my brain. I don't try to consciously control what I think about when I'm bathing, it allows me to relax a little. But currently, I think about school, all the girls of Beauxbatons I don't want to see, my only friend, Laure, who has a new petit ami and will be talking about him nonstop, and I think of my classes. All these things that make me feel uneasy and displeased to be returning to the south of France for my last year of school.
I'll be graduating at the end of this year, I remind myself, finding it scared me even more, the thought of not being in school, as opposed to unhappily being in there.
Once I've dried myself off and put on some comfortable clothes that I'll probably sleep in later, I find all of my family has fallen asleep already. The room is drafty, even though no windows are open, and I shiver, goose bumps forming on my arms. I'll go downstairs, I decide, and get a cup of tea from the woman who works at the bar, she's always been friendly with us, especially Gabrielle and me.
I tiptoe out of the room and to the end of the dark hallway. I find my way down the several flights of narrow stairs until I'm in the nearly empty dining room. I didn't realize how long I had been in the bath, for it has gotten very late. Two men are sitting at the bar, playing a game to see who can drink more FireWhiskey and an older woman sits there as well, nursing a glass of wine.
"Can I help you?" the friendly woman at the bar says with a smile.
I sit on one of the stools, away from the two men, and ask for a cup of raspberry tea. The woman nods and within minutes the warm, sweet liquid is filling my body with a lazy, contented feeling.
"Aye, Alice, did you hear?" one of the men says to the woman behind the bar.
She looks up briefly, wiping down the wood of the bar absently, "Hear what?"
"They're think-thinking about bringing the Triwizard Tournament back," the other man replies.
"You're kidding," Alice says.
The men shake their heads, "Do- hiccup- you-you believe it?"
"Are you sure this isn't your drunken mind making things up?"
The first man looks angry, "I'm not drunk-drunken!" he shouts. "It's true, they're bringing the tournament back!"
"Where'd you hear this?" the woman, drinking her wine at the other end of the bar, demands.
"Around."
Alice shakes her head, exchanging a 'oh Lord' kind of look with me. I smile somewhat sympathetically in return.
Alice laughs, "You boys are talking out of your back ends, you're only starting foolish rumors."
The men begin arguing with her then, and then they argue with each other about who had heard it first. I finish my tea quickly, and get up from the bar. Alice waves to me as I walk out of the dining room. I ascended the stairs, fatigue beginning to fog my brain. Triwizard Tournament? I've heard of it, like I've heard of the the Battle of Waterloo. Things that have happened in the past that I just don't even acknowledge or think about. Bring it back though? Was it true? No, it was probably just as Alice had said, two drunken fools making up rumors.
Oh, I'm so tired, I think as I drag myself down the dimly lit hallway and finally into our suite. I immediately crawl into the bed beside Gabrielle's, in our own separate room of the suite and almost simultaneously with my head hitting the pillow, fall fast asleep.
Author's Note: Forgive me if any of the little French words are wrong in anyway. One year of French doesn't really make me fluent and who knows when freetranslation is actually right! Please review and let me know what you think! Hope you liked it.