A/N: I've only written one other fanfic, so go easy on me. I'm open to reviews of all sorts, please tell me what you liked and or did not like. I love hearing from you guys! And the only reason this chapter is so short is that I want to make sure people actually find it somewhat worth their time to read, and I will write more, longer, and frequently in the future. :) Love ya! Saph
Disclaimer: Oh, how I wished I owned Beauxbatons and Harry Potter. And magic, and Veelas, and etc. etc. But, I don't, and Jo does, so now I can't be sued. Ha. Take that, lawyers!
--Chapter 1: Accepting Fate
It was 11:03 pm on Wednesday, August 31. As night had fallen in Richelieu, France, a teenage girl had taken to pacing her room. Her long, sleek, silvery-blonde hair streamed out behind her as she walked back and forth, muttering incoherently in French. She was visibly upset about something, but had locked herself in her room hours earlier, barring the rest of her family out. The girl really ought to have been getting to bed, but how could anyone prepare themselves for bed under such circumstances?
"Bonsoir, Mirabelle!" a voice called up the stairs, startling the girl out of her train of thought.
"Bonsoir, Maman." she replied shakily.
The girl heard a faint hiss as her mother magically extinguished the lights in the hallway, which upset her even more. In a fit of anger, tears, and frustration, she threw herself onto her bed, weeping softly. It wasn't fair! It wasn't just! Didn't she have any say in her own future? A few moments of wallowing in her own self-pity were just what she needed, but she rapidly began to feel pathetic, a feeling she loathed. Sitting up abruptly, Mirabelle Maia Deveraux summoned a mirror from across the room, and began to wipe the tears from her eyes. As much as she hated to, it was time to accept fate. Twelve hours from now, she would not be in a carriage, destined to the gleaming palace of Beauxbatons, but a dirty, horrible, speeding train, headed for that grimy castle 'Ogwarts. Or whatever it was called, it mattered not to her-all that mattered was that she was being brutally ripped from her home of the last five years, and shipped off to a terrible location in...Britain. Mirabelle barely spoke any English, and the little she spoke was very broken. How would she survive in this new place? She'd heard tales of her distant cousin's competition there several years ago. Apparently, the food was terrible, among other things. Gently placing the mirror on the floor, she sighed and looked up to her ceiling. Supposing she'd never quite understand her parents' decision to remove her from Beauxbatons, and to place her at this Hogwarts, of all schools, Mirabelle dejectedly decided she ought to just get to bed. After all, she couldn't fight fate, and in eleven hours' time, she'd be on her way. It was already technically September First, so she was technically already 16, and, not to mention, technically a Hogwarts student Joyeux Anniversaire por moi. she thought grumpily. Some birthday. Still in her clothing from earlier that day, she rolled over to grab her fluffiest slippers and, instantly, fell asleep.