Disclaimer: Sigh, the time you spend wishing you owned this amazing series is wasted – you could be writing that you don't own it, now doesn't that sound better…
Excuse my French, it may not be correct. I have not done French for 2 years and you will know what I mean without it being one hundred percent perfect. It does not need correcting – when I get a chance, I will correct it myself, but I thought you would like the next chapter sooner with incorrect French rather than later with perfect French.
Through A Tinted Veil
Chapter I - Grey
Previously:
With the ice barrier I created, I shielded Gabrielle as I could not have done for myself, keeping her heart warm and open where mine had turned cold and closed. It turned out that I was going to need the warmth she gave me when my world turned grey.
The dark mahogany turned to black; the light caramel turned to white. The colours swirled into one – most of the white stayed behind along with my home and Gabrielle.
Mrs Delacour pulled her eleven-year-old daughter into a final hug and kissed her cheeks before the porter lifter Fleur's case from her hand. He ushered her towards the gigantic chain of winged carriages behind a team of well muscled over-size horses that would carry her away from home towards Beauxbatons. Waving out of the window to her family gathered below, Fleur's flat stomach gave a sudden lurch as the carriages hurtled into the frosty air.
They streamed into to fluffy, but off-white clouds as Fleur shut the crystal window. She turned in her seat to see who she would be spending her new life at school with. As she scanned around, her eyes fell upon protective shields very similar to her own, icy eyes defiantly meeting her own, not wanting to be the first to step forward in case they would be the misfit.
Looking down at her white and pale blue designer dress with matching gloves, Fleur smiled inwardly to herself as she recognised the designer labels hiding in the carriage member's garments. She saw herself reflected in each girl's eyes. They held shield's of frozen water yet to shed a drip, and kept their superior masks tied firmly in position.
"Bonjour," Fleur greeted the carriage. "Je m'appelle Fleur, comment s'appelles vous?" At this polite enquiry, they each timidly gave their names and a little bit about themselves until the atmosphere strengthen, and the tension that could have previously decimated with a knife had evaporated. The carriage now buzzed with curiosity amongst still slightly reserved conversation.
Fleur was reminded of the memorable time she visited some of her father's friends in England. She remembered how the all stood a metre apart from each other, this only changing when they shook hands formally in greeting. She recalled the boring dinner and dance party she had been forced to attend without Gabrielle because she was too young. Fleur was seated in one side of an old man very much like her Grandfather who kindly entertained her with tales of his life in the Second World War that kept obstructing his marriage plans for his then-fiancée who was sitting on his other side, contributing with smiles, tinkling laughs and little details.
When the couple left to dance, however, Fleur mistakenly turned to her left and found herself involved engaged in the most boring conversation imaginable. The meal had finished and the section of dieting young ladies like her mother and their daughters she now found herself caught up in were drinking the most revolting substance called tea. She had inwardly sighed and found herself obliged to gaze wide-eyed at descriptions, or "ooh" and "ahh" at the latest English fashion they were discussing that were years ahead of the French and were of no consequence to her.
By the end of the night, Fleur had counted that the small crystal glasses only had six patterned sides of glass, but the larger crystal glasses had ten. This inequality contrasted with her other calculated discovery that there were one hundred and eighteen flowers on the top border of every wall.
During her trip down memory lane, Fleur's eyes had not glazed over, exactly, but held a look of haughty boredom that had prevented the others from questioning her. She realised that she had not been caught daydreaming and had not missed anything other than a hobbies discussion. As the topic moved onto families, Fleur mused that, if Gabrielle were here with her they would play their game of pretending to be princesses at their Royal Party. Well, what harm would it do to play it by herself?
Fleur drew herself up, gathering her cloak to swirl from her shoulders to her feet as she elegantly sat down again, her feet placed tog ether to one side. Quite subtly, the others collected their spread out cloaks neatly around them to trace their profiles and uncrossed their legs. She nearly laughed aloud; Fleur realised that they had been copying her all along!
As time passed in her first year, Fleur kept this group of girls very close to her. Her act dropped a little, but she adopted some of it into her personality; with the ever-present support around her, Fleur's face softened along with her heart. At Beauxbatons from the very beginning, she was respected, loved and the undisputed leader.
But, as Fleur found out, living with the status of a princess was no more exciting than living with the life of one. She had fun with her friends, of course, they were always laughing, chatting, and gossiping with each other. They went to the beach in the holidays and charmed and flirted with the boys; Fleur could not help but notice, however, that the girls waited for her to decide which one she liked best before they paired off with his friends. Although the veela would have won every unwanted competition against her friends, Fleur had the feeling that she was offered first choice of everything.
Another year passed, the school getting more paranoid about the return of You Know Who. Legends about the heroics of the young Harry Potter had been spiralling out. It appeared the power-hungry dictator had vanished, but a returned was predicted.
The antics of the merciless torturer were put aside for a year as tales of the elusive wrong-doer Sirius Black were spilling out over the globe. However, the only difference this made to Fleur's monotonous life was that at the end of her mother's weekly letter was included each snippet of gossip about the convicted criminal.
Fleur returned to Beauxbatons after celebrating her seventeenth birthday at home with urges and pleas to study as hard as she could from previously unconcerned parents. Before, they had not minded what marked their daughter received as long as she looked the best in the year and did nothing to drag the Delacour name through the mud. Fleur neer failed that challenge, but she had never failed her subject either. She was never top in her year, but without much study or attention to classes, Fleur could pass quite well. Although confused at the request to develop her concentration levels, Fleur's parents rarely told her what to do; therefore, she did as she was told and was rewarded well for it.
When Madame Maxime announced that Beauxbatons would be taking a select few students to the English Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizadry to compete in the Tri-wizard Tournament, Fleur understood, and was grateful for her warning.
Madame Maxime proceeded to announce who the select few were and hearing cheers and applause, with the extra study that allowed her a place in the line of Beaxbatons's cream, Fleur gracefully ascended the steps to the carriage where this part of her like had begun.
As she had first done to her family many years before, Fleur turned around in her seat after drawing the window shut, finished with waving to some of her friends that were not coming. Like before, Fleur looked around the carriage and was struck by the beauty of the blue-caped Beauxbatons girls. She smiled proudly as they returned her smiles a little nervously when she observed them.
It was a good thing Fleur was fond of blue; she was going to be seeing a lot of it as she moved forward into the next phase of her life.
Well, there you are, here ends the first chapter. I hoped you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.
Reviews would be appreciated x x x
x Imperial Princess x