Fleur walked, tired but thrilled, through the hallway. She had considered going straight back to the enlarged carriage that the beuxbatons seventh years currently slept in, but she was feeling in need of a walk to clear her head.
She sniffed disdainfully at the bare, cold stone walls. Beuxbatons was far superior.
She turned into a classroom to sit down, noticing with distaste the dust covering the room.
She sat at a desk, and mulled over the events of the day.
I can't believe I got picked! I'm the champion!
The honour!
Suddenly, she heard Madam Maxime calling for all the students, and she got up in a hurry, turning to go, and collding with a nearby suit of armour.
She dabbed her cheek. She was bleeding! But she would need to see the wound to fix it.
She checked her pockets, but she was always forgetting a mirror, and there was nothing there.
Searching the room, she sighed with relief as she spotted an ornate mirror.
At Buexbatons, there were mirrrors everywhere, but at hogwarts there were barely any, so she was lucky to find one.
She walked up, holding her wand in her hand, about to cast a healing carm, ehen she saw that it was not her reflection, but someone else in the mirror.
Gabrielle, herself, and...
Victoire?
She started to sob, falling to her knees.
Victoire.
She had only been ten years old when it happened, and Victoire was still a toddler, when one of last followers of Grindelwald had escaped to France, killing all in his path. Including little Victoire, who had been outside, and seen him apparate.
From that day on, her and Gabrielle had been closer, each trying to fill the gap little Victoire had left.
She cried until she was empty of tears.
Finally, Adrianne found her, and led her back to the carriage.