"Must we really go through with all this pageantry?"
It took a moment for Fleur Delacour to realize that she was being spoken to.
The words had been French, but they were also slightly accented, in a British tongue. She opened her eyes and looked at her fiancée's reflection from her vanity's mirror as Georgina fluttered about her hair with brush in hand. He was sitting on the windowsill with the fading sunlight framing him, a cigarette perched precariously in his hand, with those silver eyes of his meeting her halfway. A playful quirk came to his lips when he noticed her looking and it was all too easy for him to stretch in his seat.
A movement that shifted his unbuttoned shirt and revealed all too much of his delicious torso.
"Yes, Corvus, we do." Fleur said and lazily wretched her eyes away from abdominal muscles. Now was not the time for another session in the sheets, even if she so dearly wanted to pin him down and run her hands all over him, she could not, for they had more important matters to attend to. It was the reason she was letting Georgina do her hair instead of simply letting it hang free as she was wont to do.
Protocol demanded that they put their best foot forward.
It wouldn't do to look anything other than perfect for their visitors, Fleur thought to herself as her cousin brushed her hair with smooth motions, even if they were the British and Bulgarians.
"Well, I certainly can't wait to see what will go wrong," Fleur's eyes snapped to her fiancée in a flash, blue tingeing violet for a moment, causing the seventh-year student to hold his hands up. "not that anything will go wrong on your part. Beauxbatons is the epitome of elegance, and Magical France does have surprisingly few blood feuds going on, unlike the mess that is Magical Britain."
It took the small tap on the shoulder from Georgina for Fleur to completely calm down. She looked at her reflection in the mirror and willed for her magic to settle down, her eyes going back to their bright blue, the hint of Veela aggression dissipating. Corvus Malfoy was so very lucky that he was her fiancée and Mate, otherwise she'd have surely ripped him to pieces for his comments a hundred times over, delicious body be damned.
"It's not surprising in the least." Fleur said as Georgina put the brush away and set about braiding her hair by hand. A Veela's hair had magical properties that meant only a fellow Veela would truly understand how to take care of it. Which was why Georgina was the one to handle her long platinum-gold locks. "You British are always so barbaric and bestial. Always fighting one another. No sense of decorum or standards. So very brutish."
"Oh? Coming from the woman who very much enjoys the ministrations of her British brute." Corvus had taken a couple long strides to end up kneeling next to her seat. He had discarded his shirt along the way – Fleur had to fight the instinct to run a hand all over his muscled chest – and that cigarette was dangling dangerously from the corner of his mouth. "Quite hypocritical, is it not, Georgina?"
"Cousin Fleur always maintains a sense of decorum," Georgina said, playing up the haughtiness, and Fleur smirked at Corvus by way of the mirror. "unlike some people currently present."
"I'd take that as an insult if it wasn't true." Corvus conceded and took a drag from his cigarette. She took it from his lips with an almost leisurely pluck, rolling it between her thumb and first finger for a moment, before taking a drag of her own.
A muggle brand, not strictly within Protocol, Fleur exhaled and placed the cigarette back into Corvus' lips while making sure to get a feel of his jaw along the way, but so very in character for him.
"Mmm, I expect you to rein in some of your more brutish compatriots." Fleur grinned at the way that Corvus rolled his eyes. "Maman wants this tournament to go as smoothly as possible."
"I can't make any promises." Corvus took a final drag of his cigarette before vanishing it with a snap of the fingers. He was such a showoff at times. "Especially not when the Boy-Who-Lived is coming. I fear that Beauxbatons is bound to be rocked with more scandals in the coming year than it has seen in its thousand-year long history."
"Oh? So, everything your siblings have been writing is true?" Even in France they had heard tell of how that little civil war had ended. Not that she truly believed it. A Dark Lord defeated by a toddler? Preposterous. Just the British pandering to the masses about their greatness. "That Harry Potter is as reckless as described? Disaster follows in his wake?"
"Can't say that everything they write to me about Hogwarts is true. Though," Fleur watched as Corvus got that curious look in his eyes for a moment. It was a strange mix of reminiscence, amusement, and melancholy all at once. So very strange, and almost as soon as it appeared, it was gone. "when both Draco and Cass write the same story, I take it as more or less the truth. When only one writes, and the other doesn't corroborate? Then I add a massive grain of salt to it and hold my final judgement until Yule Holiday comes around."
"So, it is true. A toddler really did defeat your Dark Lord."
"Wouldn't know for sure." Corvus shrugged while leaning on the armrest of her chair. He had her left arm in both of his hands, one thumb massaging her knuckle, while the other played with the signet ring on her pinky. "I was rather young when the war ended. However, what I can tell you is that a great many people do believe that Harry Potter saved us all from Voldemort, though not all of them appreciate that service he did."
"And now they're all coming to France." Fleur drawled as Georgina pulled more of her hair into the complex braids that Protocol demanded. Having Beauxbatons host the entire student populations of Hogwarts and Durmstrang for a year sounded like a chore as well as a needless display of power. But then again, when did the Ministry, and her own mother for that matter, ever pass up the chance to flaunt their power and influence? "Should I be expecting any new blood feuds to be initiated during this tournament?"
"Not if I have any say in the matter." Corvus said and Fleur licked her lips when she saw how sexy he looked when he got serious. "Your mother might flay me alive if my fellow countrymen cause too much trouble."
"Well then, it seems you'll have your work cut out for you, doesn't it?"
"It seems so." Fleur watched in the mirror as Corvus stood. He ran a hand along her bare arm as he did so, and she wanted to very much to feel them on other parts of her body. But he was already making his way towards the door before she could act on that impulse. "Make her positively ravishing Georgina, no, not ravishing. Magnificent. Make her magnificent." That hungry look in his silver eyes almost made her command him to stay. "We can have nothing less for our Princess of Paris."
"Guys, hello, are any of you even listening?"
Harry Potter jolted as he rubbed his eyes to get his bearings. He wasn't exactly sure where in Hermione's lecture he had gotten lost, but it was definitely early on, and he wasn't the only one going by the fact that everyone else in the compartment had similar expressions on their faces.
"Sorry Hermione, could you repeat that again?" Harry forced himself to sit up straight. When Professor Dumbledore had said that this journey to France would take ten hours Harry didn't expect it to take the full ten hours. They had magic after all. Couldn't it make the flying steam engine that was the Hogwarts Express move any faster? They were bound to miss dinner entirely by the time they arrived.
"Honestly guys, this is very important." Hermione huffed and flipped through her notebook back to the second page. "Hogwarts is travelling to Beauxbatons for the first time in two hundred years. The Headmaster said that we were to follow all the rules and customs of proper witches and wizards."
Harry didn't fail to notice how Hermione frowned towards the end of her sentence. Not that he could blame her, Pureblood Customs made no sense whatsoever, yet half the students at Hogwarts were purebloods or half-bloods and followed them like it was a religion. A religion that basically relegated the Muggle-born to irrelevancy. Simply because they didn't have the fortune of being birthed into the right family.
"It's rather late is all." Ron mumbled as he fought back a yawn. "And its not like we don't already know the rules we're supposed to follow. McGonagall practically forced the book down our throats."
"Yes, but none of you have read said book, and now we're literally an hour away from Beauxbatons completely unprepared." Hermione countered.
"I, uh, I read the book." Neville half raised his hand like they were in a class.
"I didn't even know any of this mattered until first year." Harry pointed out. Hermione rolled her eyes at that while Ron and Neville chuckled. They'd all heard his excuse a hundred times by now, but it never failed to elicit a reaction, especially when Hermione got into one of her lecture-rants.
"I believe that horse has been beaten dead long-ago Harry." Hermione said and struck them all with a look. It was eerily similar to Professor McGonagall's 'you're an idiot and I expect better from you' look. Harry and his friends were all too familiar with that look. "And that excuse doesn't even work anymore. We were all there at the Burrow for the World Cup when Mr. Weasley explained in full how British Wizarding Nobility and Pureblood Customs work."
Harry grimaced at that. His entire world view had more of less been turned on its head, again, in all the ways that made it more confusing than it already was. Wizarding Nobility and Titles and Pureblood Customs and Magical Politics were all now the bane of his existence. A whole set of rules and social expectations and bullshit had been foisted upon him. And no one, until Mr. Weasley for that matter, had thought to inform him of any of it!
"Alright Hermione," Harry sighed. He was a fourth-year student now. Slacking off was probably not an option anymore. Damn Wizarding Politics and their stupid expectations and backwards rules. "I'm paying attention, so lay it on me."
"Ronald! This concerns you as well." Hermione said and Harry nudged Ron with his elbow. The redhead grunted. Neville then elbowed him, got another grunt, and then Hermione had her wand out and zapped Ron awake.
"Oi! I'm paying attention!" Ron hissed as he rubbed his leg.
"Just making sure." Hermione stuffed her wand away and then smoothed out her notebook. It was filled with her neat handwriting and Harry spotted several little diagrams in there as well. Christ, he thought as he shifted in his seat, she probably knows more about all of this than the rest of us combined. "You may be the sixth son, but you're still a pureblood like Neville, and I expect both of you to help me help Harry so that he doesn't blunder his way into an international scandal on our very first day in France."
Harry's cheeks reddened a little at that, and from the corner of his eye he saw the same happen to Neville, while Ron's ears reddened instead.
"Now, I'll explain the basics to you three again while you drink these." Hermione shoved three cups in front of them. Harry didn't know where they had come from, but the smell of tea quickly dispelled his need to know, and he drank half of his cup in one go to fully wake up. Ron and Neville did much the same. "So, you all know that we're going to Beauxbatons Academy of Magic for the Tri-Wizard Tournament, right?"
"We're not that daft Hermione." Ron said and Hermione gave him a look that had Neville snorting.
"Says the one who nearly missed the train because he didn't pack the previous night like everyone else did."
"Well…" Ron's counter died in his throat at the look Hermione gave him and he simply took another sip of his drink.
"Next time, make sure you get on the train early, or you'll be stuck in France."
"Right."
"Good, now," Hermione looked down at her notebook for a moment before taking a breath and looking back at the three of them. "the entire student population of Hogwarts is going to Beauxbatons for this tournament. The same is happening for the other school that's participating, the Durmstrang Institute. That means that this will be the largest gathering of witches and wizards since the Trial and Incarceration of Gellert Grindelwald. It also means that this is going to be the largest gathering of Wizarding Nobility since that trial, and it would be counterproductive if we didn't prepare Harry for the worst."
"That seems a little harsh, no?" Harry asked.
"Harry, for the past three years at Hogwarts something or someone has tried to kill you, we can't take any chances for this tournament." Hermione said and Ron and Neville nodded along. "This time it might be politics that kills you, which is why I'm giving you a crash course breakdown of all the major players to look out for while we're in France. I'd rather not see you die because you inadvertently insulted someone."
"Like when you didn't shake Malfoy's hand?" Neville pointed out. It took Harry a moment to remember what his fellow Gryffindor was talking about. Then it hit him like a bludger.
"Wait, is that why Malfoy's been such a git?" Harry looked at the other three. Ron had his brow furrowed while Neville and Hermione looked somewhat pained. "Because I didn't shake his hand?!"
"You didn't know any better back then." Hermione said. "But yes, he did take it as an insult, though according to Pureblood Customs you didn't do anything more than commit a faux pas. Malfoy however seems to have taken it as a grievous insult, hence why he's been nothing but horrible to us ever since."
"It might just be that he's a slimy snake as well." Ron added.
"That's not exactly fair. Cassiopeia Malfoy is also Slytherin, and she hasn't been unkind to us." Neville pointed out, and Harry didn't miss the way he blushed when he did.
"Well, that's because she's…" Words failed Ron, so he simply gestured with his hand.
"Just because they're twins doesn't mean they act the same." Hermione said. "Just look at Parvati and Padma. They're twins and look the same, but they don't act the same."
"Though, they are in different Houses." Harry pointed out. "And Fred and George are both in Gryffindor and do act frighteningly similar."
"Not helping." Hermione sighed. "But we can talk about the inner workings of Twin Bonds and why Draco Malfoy is a git later. What we need to talk about is his older brother."
Ron and Neville, who had been bickering to themselves, quieted down at that. Harry was a little confused and looked at all three of them. What was so important about Draco Malfoy's older brother? He didn't even go to Hogwarts. His confusion must have been written all over his face as Hermione continued.
"Corvus Malfoy is heir to The Noble and Most Ancient House of Malfoy." Hermione explained and rolled her eyes as she did so. "That means he's going to be the next Duke Malfoy of the Silver Isle and holder of five votes in the Wizengamot."
"What does that have to do with-"
"He's also been recently created the Duke of Normandy by the French Senate." Harry nodded along to that. He knew that Normandy was a region in France and that the French equivalent to the Wizengamot was the Senate. "And that was because he has recently become engaged to Princess Fleur Delacour, The Princess of Paris, Heir to the Isle of Diamond."
"Got it." Harry said. Then he noticed that Ron and Neville were hacking coughs out while Hermione vanished the spilled tea with her wand. Had he said something wrong?
"Harry, you do realize who Malfoy's older brother is engaged to, right?" Neville asked after he finished coughing.
"Um, Hermione just said he's going to marry Fleur Delacour, what's so shocking about that?" He really was confused now.
Ron made a noise and looked like he was going to faint.
"Oh Merlin save us." Neville downed the rest of his tea in one go.
"What Neville is trying to say is that Fleur Delacour is a Veela." Hermione said. "Remember the mascots that the Bulgarian Team had during the World Cup? Those were Veela. Though, I've found that there's a distinction to be made between Bulgarian and French Veela, and that doesn't even consider that the one we're talking about is a princess."
"Wait, Malfoy's older brother is marrying a princess, and France is actually a monarchy ruled by Veela?" Harry looked at Hermione with a raised eyebrow. "You're joking, right?"
"No, I'm not joking. Yes, Malfoy's older brother is going to marry a princess who is also a Veela. No, France is not a monarchy in the traditional sense, it's complicated. And yes, Veela do reign." Hermione looked at him expectantly. She was completely serious and that was somewhat sobering for Harry.
"Well, that's not too bad, right?"
"Actually." Neville cleared his throat and looked directly at Harry. "It gets more complicated."
"Oh, don't do this to us Neville," Ron said and rubbed his forehead. "how can it get more complicated?"
"Apparently, and I heard this from my gran so don't hold it against me, but Corvus Malfoy is apparently also Heir Presumptive Black."
Harry, Hermione, and Ron sat frozen for a moment.
"Wait, he's what?" Hermione demanded as she looked down at her notebook again, eyes moving over her notes, and then back at Neville. "That doesn't make any sense. He's not even a Black!"
"Yeah, there's no way Sirius would make a Malfoy his heir!" Harry was damn sure about that. His godfather had been proven innocent over the summer during a retrial and he was now in Switzerland seeing a Mind-Healer. He would have said something about naming a Malfoy as his heir in one of the many letters he had sent. "He would have written me something about that!"
"He's gone and done it." Ron groaned to himself and was promptly ignored by the rest of them.
"I… I only the messenger." Neville said and held up his hands in a placating gesture. "My gran told me about it after Sirius Black's trial ended. You guys were all celebrating the victory and I didn't want to be the party damper. I also thought you guys knew about it anyway, until right now that is."
"Is that why Malfoy's been giving me smug looks as of late?" Harry wondered more to himself than the rest of his friends in their compartment. Draco Malfoy hadn't even insulted him yet.
"Probably, because this changes the political landscape of Magical Britain," Hermione muttered as she got Muggle pen from somewhere and started jotting down notes. "but that doesn't explain why he's Heir Black Neville. Corvus Malfoy is Lucius Malfoy's son. I'd think we all notice if he was Sirius' kid."
"Well, you guys know about my parents being in…" Neville grimaced. "incapable catatonic states at St. Mungo's?" Hermione offered him a sad smile and a nod. Harry did much the same while Ron simply sighed. "Right, well, since they can't function anymore that means my gran has taken up the position as head of the family. Which makes her Lady-Regent Longbottom. So, when I come into my majority, she'll transfer the position of head of the family to me and I'll become Lord-Regent Longbottom."
"Not to be mean Neville," Harry frowned at how that sounded. "but what does this have to do with the Malfoy situation?"
"Would it kill you to be less insensitive?" Hermione swatted him on the arm.
"The point I was trying to get across is that my dad can't function in society, but the Olde Magick the Wizengamot functions on still recognizes him as Lord Longbottom, Duke of the Shield Isle. It also means that I am still recognized as Heir Longbottom even though, in a legal sense, I should be Lord Longbottom proper." Neville explained though he looked pained as he did so. "So, by that logic, the same thing applies to House Black as well as House Potter now that I think about it."
"What?" Was all that Harry could say. All this talk of politics and lords was really muddying his thoughts into mush.
"I think I see where you're going with this Neville." Hermione was furiously scribbling down notes and had that slightly manic look in her eyes whenever she really got into study-mode.
"Well, for Sirius' case, he was properly made Lord Black, Duke of the Blackthorn Isle, when he was found innocent of all charges during the trial over the summer." Neville continued. Harry nodded at that. He'd been at that trial himself. "That also means that he needs a recognized heir, and we all know that he doesn't have any children, nor does he have any living male relatives that bear the Black name. So, by the rules of Olde Magick and the British legal system, the next closest male wizard with Black blood is automatically named as the heir-"
"And that's somehow Corvus Malfoy?" Harry butted in and got a swat on the arm from Hermione.
"Yes, because of his mother." Neville nodded to himself.
"His mother?" Harry asked. "What does she have to do with this?"
"Well, you know how I'm a pureblood, right?" Neville asked and he got two nods in return. Ron had fallen asleep at some point, but Harry knew that Hermione would fill him in at the end. "That means I had to study all the family lineages in the Sacred Twenty-Eight. I took a look over those lineages after my gran mentioned Corvus Malfoy being the new Black heir and found the reason why, it's his mother."
"I want to see those notes the next chance you have Neville." Hermione said whilst scribbling in her notebook. Harry idly wondered how she was able to write so neatly while also so quickly.
"I'll owl them to you." Neville got a quick grin from Hermione before she motioned for him to continue. "Okay, Malfoy's mother is the reason he's the Heir Presumptive of House Black, and that's because she was born a Black."
"But Sirius doesn't have any sisters." Harry pointed out.
"No, but he does have cousins, one of whom is now known as Lady Narcissa Malfoy."
"And since she was a Black by birth and cousin to Sirius, that makes her children cousins to Sirius as well, and since there isn't any more male Black Heirs the position goes to the next closest person related by blood who happens to be her eldest son!" Hermione said and sounded breathless as she did so. Like she had just gotten the correct answer in class. "That's why Corvus Malfoy is Heir Black!"
Harry felt a pit of dread form in his stomach.
"Heir Presumptive Black." Neville corrected. "If Sirius gets married and has children then he won't be Heir Black anymore."
"Wait!" Harry latched onto a piece of hope that might not leave Sirius' family in the hands of a Malfoy. "I'm his godson! Doesn't that count for something?"
"Oh! I know this one!" Hermione had a grin on her face and flipped through her notebook. A sleeping Ron grunted slightly, and Harry couldn't help the small part of him that felt like Hermione was missing the seriousness of the situation. She exclaimed in triumph as she found the right note. "Godchildren do not factor into the line of succession for a lordly house unless that godchild is also blood-adopted by the lord of said house! Oh, wait, that's not good."
That pit seemed to get twice as heavy.
"That's about right." Neville said. "Sorry mate."
"I… I need to write to Sirius." Harry suddenly found himself standing. His heart was bounding in his chest and his blood was pounding in his ears. He couldn't just sit and let something like this happen. His godfather probably didn't even know with all the chaos that was his trial. "I need to tell him."
"We can't be more than half an hour from Beauxbatons." Hermione said and looked out of the compartment window. There was only a sliver of sun left in the sky and the clouds were blocking most of it. "Once we land, we can write the letter and send it- Harry? Where are you go-"
Harry didn't hear what else Hermione had to say as the compartment door slid shut behind him. His feet were moving while his mind was racing. He couldn't wait for the train to land to send a message! Professor McGonagall had said that there was an entire Welcoming Ceremony to go through and then a feast to eat. That would take too long. He had to get a note to Sirius, and he was pretty sure that Dumbledore was bringing some of the Hogwarts school owls along with them.
All he had to do was find them, write a quick note, and send it off to Switzerland!
The hallway of the carriage was empty, and Harry could hear the soft sounds of chatter as he moved past closed compartment doors. Some of the rooms had the blinds drawn while others had no light coming from them at all. All of them remained closed as his walk turned into a jog towards the end of the carriage. He needed to find where the school owls were being kept and they were probably near the Prefect Carriage.
"Harry!" Hermione's voice called out and he looked over his shoulder. She was jogging after him and Neville's head was stuck out of their compartment. "We're not supposed to cross between carriages unless it's an emergency!"
"This is an emergency." Harry said as he reached the carriage door and wrenched it open. He was hit with a shock of cold air as the door slid open. The howling wind bit at his skin and caused his glasses to nearly fly from his face. "Sirius is my godfather and the only family that really counts that I've got left. I have to tell him about this! I can't just let the Malfoys slither their way into his life!"
"Calm down and think for a second!" Hermione grabbed ahold of his arm and gave him a pleading look. He had to fight the urge to throw her off. "This is a lot of information to deal with all at once and we still don't have all the facts. The last thing we need right now is you slipping while crossing carriages and plummeting to your death over the French countryside. So come back to the compartment, and let's think about it, please?"
"I…"
"Harry, Sirius is fine, and we don't even know much about Corvus Malfoy other than he's the older brother of the Malfoy twins." Harry had to admit that she was making sense. He took a deep breath as he let go of the carriage door and watched as it slid shut with some force. "He also goes to Beauxbatons, so maybe he's not as bad as Draco, or their father."
"He's also the son of the man who gave Ginny the cursed diary." Harry pointed out and then held up a hand. "I know, I know, I can't blame him for that. He doesn't go to Hogwarts. But he's still related to that utter arsehole and from all the Malfoys I've met you can't say that the family doesn't follows a pattern."
"Guys!" Neville called out from their compartment. A little yellow light was blinking in the hallway. "We need to get ready! The train's landing in fifteen minutes!"
"You have a point there, but now's not the time, come on." Hermione tugged him along and Harry sighed. His heart was still pounding in his chest, but he felt it getting calmer. "We'll write to Sirius after we get to Beauxbatons and let him sort out his house. For now, lets get into our robes, and we still haven't even covered all the social rules you have to follow when dealing with royalty."
Even though he had been through a rollercoaster's worth of emotions, Harry couldn't help but chuckle at Hermione's will to stuff him with information, and if he was being honest with himself, he appreciated the momentary distraction.
…and remember to make inroads with the French Nobility during the school year. You father believes that he can sway enough lords in the Wizengamot to vote his way but you and I both know the talk that happens in the background. With the whole debacle concerning Sirius Black's trial, Fudge's position as Minister is tenuous at best, so he's going to hit back at something that will garner support. There is word that Fudge and his lickspittles are going to focus on the French. If they do, then Corvus' engagement will probably be the point of contention, and they might force him to renounce his heirships because of it. That cannot happen. Speak with your friends and get their support. The Black Succession will get complicated if the closest blood relation is forced out of the heirship, and with Sirius' health in a fragile state…
Cassiopeia Malfoy sighed as she put her mother's letter down.
Is it too much to ask for one year of just being a student at Hogwarts and not have to deal with politics? She thought as she picked up her father's letter, read the first sentence, and then almost immediately tossed it to the side. Ever since her brother's engagement, politics was the only thing that their family seemed to talk about, and Cassiopeia was finding that there in fact was a limit to the amount of political prattling she could take. Just one year.
"Oh my." Pansy murmured as she picked up the discarded letter. Cassiopeia groaned as she leaned her head against the taller girl's shoulder. Her robes were made of arcomantula silk and felt soft to the touch. She smelled like pansies. "Your father has given you both your marching orders."
Draco made a noncommittal noise from the other side of their shared compartment. Cassiopeia looked towards her twin and found him looking at himself in the mirror, adjusting his robes. He had already read the letters their parents had sent and then jumped into readying himself. Draco always did take this political stuff too seriously.
"And what did he say?" Cassiopeia asked. "I didn't read father's letter."
"He wants us to be on our best for the French and the Bulgarians." Draco answered as he brushed a nonexistent piece of dust off his robes. "Father says there's going to be a fight in the Wizengamot about if Corvus can stay as the heir when he's engaged to a Veela. He wants us to gather support from all sides so that the eventual vote goes in our favor."
"How are the French and Bulgarians going to help in a Wizengamot debate?" Pansy asked as she looked at the letter in her hands. "Its not like they have any votes."
"But they do have influence." Draco turned to look at them. "There's a lot of French money invested in Britain and if Corvus loses both the Malfoy and Black heirships then they lose a major foothold."
"Oh? So now you're not jealous of our brother?" Cassiopeia said and she watched as her brother stilled for a moment. Ah, there it is. "I thought you didn't want him to have both heirships?"
"I…"
"Cass, my dear." Pansy chided as she intertwined their fingers. Cassiopeia felt her cheeks redden slightly. "Don't tease your brother so. We all get jealous of our older siblings."
"You know," Draco said as he fought a grimace. "it doesn't sound sincere coming from someone who is an only child."
"I still didn't get an answer to my question, Draco." Cassiopeia looked at her brother. "What happened to the desire to be Heir Black? If the vote goes against father's wishes, then Corvus won't be Heir Black anymore, and who do you think is the next in line?"
"I will admit that the thought has crossed my mind and I may have spoken while overly emotional." Draco said as he sat down in a way that his robes didn't crease much. "He's already been made the Duke of Normandy by the French, and now he going to get the Blackthorn Isle and the Silver Isle? Of course I'm a little jealous, but Corvus is our brother, eccentricities included, and if what father's letter says is true then there'll be a hell of a storm coming. A political one that's going to spill over into our lives again. But you can't honestly say that the idea of becoming Lord Black doesn't sound nice."
"I'm a girl, Draco," Cassiopeia said blandly. "I can't be a lord of anything-"
The door to their compartment slid open, without any of them unlocking it, and Cassiopeia hastily slid away from Pansy until there was an appropriate amount of space between them. She hated that she couldn't love her in public, that it all had to be behind closed doors, behind an act. Their hands only just separated when Theodore Nott poked his head into their compartment. His brown eyes looked at the three of them with a sharpness that always unnerved her.
"Well, isn't it cozy in here, should I come back at a later time?" Nott smirked at them all as he spoke.
"Not at all, Theo." Draco said while he nudged an apology at her through their Twin Bond. "You're welcome to join us."
Cassiopeia gathered up the letters as Nott walked in, nodded to them all in acknowledgement, and closed the compartment door behind him. He may have been Draco's friend, but he and the Nott family weren't allies, not like Parkinsons were. She shoved them into her leather purse as Nott sat down next to Draco. He was dressed, like the rest of them, in his best for the Welcoming Ceremony.
"What do you need, Theodore?" Pansy said with a voice that was more Slytherin Ice Queen in enunciation. Though, no one could pull it off better than that bitch Daphne Greengrass, and Cassiopeia frowned slightly at the comparison.
"No need to be so frosty, Pansy. We're all friends here." Nott's eyes darted between Pansy and herself for a moment while a smirk played on his lips. "I come with fresh gossip after all."
"Anymore and Blaise might feel threatened." Draco chuckled. "The King of Gossip is highly territorial after all."
"Please, where did you think I got it from in the first place? Blaise wanted me to pass it along and I know you'll find it… useful."
Draco looked intrigued at that. Cassiopeia didn't like the tone Nott was using. He was everything that painted Slytherin House in a bad light. It also didn't help that his own father had just barely skirted a lifetime stint in Azkaban with the Imperius Excuse as Corvus put it. The sooner he was gone the better.
"Well?" Pansy sounded slightly annoyed. "What was so interesting that you just had to tell us?"
Nott smirked at that, and Cassiopeia couldn't believe that some of her fellow classmates actually called this guy a friend. Crabbe and Goyle she could understand, those two were idiots, but she didn't know why Draco liked to talk with him. Maybe Corvus had the right idea of going to a school where there were almost no Brits about.
"I have it from Blaise, who got it from Anderson, seventh-year Ravenclaw prefect, that old Dumbledore is in a rather angry mood while we're only," Nott looked up – as did the rest of them – as the little yellow light started to flash from above the compartment door. "fifteen minutes from landing. Something to do with the Aurors."
"So, Dumbledore's a little upset about something to do with the French Aurors, what of it?" Cassiopeia tried to keep her frustration out of her voice.
"That's the thing, Cass," She wanted to slap that smirk off his face for using her name like that, but Draco gave her a look and a mental nudge, and she could feel Pansy tense beside her. "Anderson says that Dumbledore wasn't angry with the French Aurors. He was angry with the boys in red."
"Does Anderson know why Dumbledore's angry with the British Aurors or is this all just pointless-"
Pansy was cut off as their compartment door slid open again and Cassiopeia was starting to wonder if her twin had put up shoddy wards. A damn locking charm wasn't that hard to get yet someone like Lily Moon was still able to get in with ease. Their fellow Slytherin didn't even have her wand in hand.
"Guys," Lily smiled at them all and like usual disregarded the formal greetings that they were supposed to use. It was rather refreshing. "Professor Snape wants us all to put our best foot forward, as well as to keep all feuds behind closed doors."
"Well, of course, we wouldn't do anything else Miss Moon." Nott said with a smile that had Lily blushing red. Cassiopeia didn't like it. Lily put the pure in pureblood in that she was probably the most innocent Slytherin to ever grace the hallowed halls of Hogwarts. She probably didn't even fully comprehend just how deep some of the blood feuds went.
She also definitely deserved someone better than Theodore Nott.
Before she could say anything, Nott was already on his feet, offering to escort Lily back to her compartment. Of course, the girl blushed a little harder at that, and Nott threw a smirk over his shoulder as he slid the compartment door shut as he left. Cassiopeia forced herself to take a breath less she lashed out with her magic. She would not give him the satisfaction of getting such a rise out of her.
"Hey." Pansy put a hand on her arm and Cassiopeia loosened the grip she had on her purse. "You okay Cass?"
"I will be once someone puts Nott in his place." She huffed out.
"Theo's not that bad." Draco said and then shrugged when Cassiopeia sent him a glare. "Okay, he may be a bit of a prat, but he's still one of us. Slytherins stick together."
"Not all Slytherins are created equal." Pansy pulled Cassiopeia into her arms and pressed a kiss to her temple. Cassiopeia felt a hint of heat brush her cheeks. "And why are you friends with him anyway, Draco? He's not even a declared ally."
"Because politics." Cassiopeia mumbled into Pansy's shoulder. "When is it anything but politics?"
"Alright, lets get going," Draco stood and smoothed out his already wrinkleless robes. "I can see Beauxbatons from here."
Pansy gave her one more kiss on the temple before leaving the embrace. Cassiopeia mourned the loss and stood as well. Through the window she could see the lights coming from the Palace of Beauxbatons, a shining center in the otherwise empty valley within the Pyrenees Mountains, almost like a giant beacon. Even from the distance she could see how pretty it looked. All walls and columns of marble, neatly trimmed bushes, and colorfully decorated courtyards. Not at all like the grey bricks and plain faced towers of Hogwarts.
It almost hurt to see how much better Beauxbatons looked, and they hadn't yet stepped foot on French soil. Maybe Corvus had the right idea when he forced Father and Mother into letting him go to Beauxbatons instead of Hogwarts, Cassiopeia thought as the Hogwarts Express started its final descent towards clearly lit railway tracks, he gets to go to a pretty school while not having to deal with all the bullshit politics and Nott's punchable face.
Pansy looped their arms together and gently pulled her along. Draco had gone ahead of them – Crabbe and Goyle already lumbering after him – and by the time they entered the hallway all of the other compartments had begun to empty. Students – mostly other Slytherins – all had their best robes on for the occasion. It wasn't every year that the entirety of Hogwarts visited another school. That they were doing so along with Durmstrang meant even more.
The Tri-Wizard Tournament hadn't even started, and they were already competing, though it looked like Hogwarts was going to win this first round.
They had arrived before Durmstrang after all.
Cassiopeia had to let go of Pansy as she took her first step on French soil. The Hogwarts Express had landed with a smoothness that rivaled a prized Aethonan. The professors had deboarded first and were all calling for them to get into groups by house. Professor Snape wasn't so much as calling as he was barking orders at them. Cassiopeia didn't let that take away from the moment.
Her feet touched the smooth stone of the station platform, and she swore it felt different to that of Nine and Three-Quarters at King's Cross, more magical.
"Let's move it along ladies." Warrington, one of the sixth-year Slytherin prefects, said with a nearly imperceptible nod as he passed by. He was a pureblood, but from a minor house that was firmly in the grey, and he technically outranked him while they were all at school.
The rest of their housemates were in a semi-organized blob of black robes. Snape was corralling them into orderly lines by way of yelling. The Slytherin prefects on the other hand were moving through the group and offering a gentler approach. Less yelling and more herding them into the right direction. Seventh-years at the front through second-years at the back.
Cassiopeia had to wonder how the firsties were going to get used to Hogwarts once they left Beauxbatons. No doubt it would be a sharp change of scenery and she felt a tiny bit of pity for them. She glanced over at the group of them standing around Hagrid and wondered how Dumbledore had managed to convince all of those parents to allow their eleven-year-old children on a full school year in France.
"Lady Malfoy, Heiress Parkinson," The silky voice of Blaise Zabini made them both turn. The Italian born wizard had his hands tucked in his Venetian tailored trousers. "both as beautiful and charming as ever."
"I wish I could say the same." Pansy sniffed, her arm looping back around Cassiopeia's, and she could tell the black-haired girl was fighting a grin. "You sicced Nott on us."
"Many apologies." Blaise offered a genuine smile, a rarity in Slytherin House, and fluttered his robes as he bowed at the waist. "A mere momentary lapse in judgment on my part. Only chance that you two were sitting with Draco when I sent our dear friend. I fear am not as omniscient as many claim me to be."
"I still don't understand why you and Draco are friends with him." Cassiopeia grumbled as Pansy led her towards the rest of their housemates, patting her arm along the way. Blaise followed on her other side. "He's just an arrogant, self-assured, bore."
"Ah, but how could we not be friends with him? He is as much a Slytherin as the rest of us are." Blaise said.
"Just because we wear the same-colored ties does not make all of his inexcusable behavior excusable." Pansy countered.
"Ah, that's just semantics." Blaise waved at that. "Besides, I personally can't wait to see him make an idiot of himself in front of the Frenchies."
"Keep speaking like that and you might just be the first one to be made an idiot of." Cassiopeia said as they joined with the rest of the fourth-year Slytherins. She spotted Draco through the crowd saying something to Crabbe and Goyle. Nott was speaking with that blonde haired tramp Greengrass and her half-blood friend Davis. She didn't see Lily and the Carrow twins were huddled together off to the side.
Soon enough the four houses were in semi-orderly groups, with the Gryffindors taking the longest to organize themselves, to no one's surprise. Professor McGonagall and the Gryffindor prefects looked a little frazzled, no doubt due to the Weasley twins and their antics. Dumbledore didn't seem to mind however, the man simply smiling at them all, eyes twinkling from behind those half-moon glasses.
Cassiopeia noticed that his smile didn't quite reach his eyes.
"Quiet!" Dumbledore's sonorous enhanced voice boomed over them all and cut the aimless chatter silent. "Now, I need not remind you that during our stay at Beauxbatons you are all to comport yourselves with the upmost respect as befitting a Hogwarts student, less you wish to be sent back to Britain and miss out on the tournament in its entirety."
There were some gasps at that, and Dumbledore looked quite serious, so she wondered just how long it would take before a Gryffindor was sent packing.
"We are representing Magical Britain as a whole for the year. The eyes of not only Magical France but the rest of Magical Europe will be upon us! I expect each and every one of you to put your best foot forward. Its not every year we have an opportunity such as this."
Cassiopeia sighed as Dumbledore then started to go on about the minutiae in all its tedious glory. She listened with half an ear and spent most of her time looking around. The marble walls of the Palace of Beauxbatons loomed in the distance behind their Headmaster. It wasn't as tall as Hogwarts, but what it lacked in height, it made up for in width. She counted three rows of at least a hundred windows going from left to right, all of them lit, as well as multiple towers shooting up along the way.
She had seen Corvus' photographs of the place ever since he had come back for Yule Holiday of his first year, but seeing it on a little piece of paper and with her own eyes was completely different, and she could only imagine what the place looked from the vantage point of a broom.
It took Pansy tugging gently on her arm for her to realize that Dumbledore was finished with his speech. By the look on Blaise's face the old man probably didn't say anything they hadn't already heard. Best foot forward, don't embarrass Hogwarts or your family, promote a spirt of international cooperation, win the damn tournament. Half of what was said was probably obvious to even the firsties.
"They're not going to make us walk all the way to the palace itself, are they?" Blaise asked. It was a rather long distance between the train station and the palace itself. Not that it would have been a laborious task of walking. The ground was completely flat and paved.
"It appears not." Cassiopeia said as someone pointed at the sky. She caught sight of Merlin damned carriages gliding through the air as they were pulled by winged horses. Soon others around them caught sight of the carriages and gasps of shock and amazement were abound. Blaise let out a low whistle of approval and Pansy snorted.
"Saved from the task of walking. It's a wonder you're the King of Gossip." Pansy said.
"I will not deign that treasonous remark with a counter." Blaise turned his nose up at them, though he was smiling all the while. "Clearly I'm in the company of some common wenches and not the sophisticated witches I've come to know."
"Common wenches?" Cassiopeia raised an eyebrow at that.
"Oh! Would you look at that, our carriages are here, we best get going."
Then he was off, leaving Cassiopeia and Pansy snickering as he went, before they too joined the throng of students and professors boarding the carriages. The three of them ended up in the same carriage anyway, and while Pansy and Blaise spent the journey trading jokes and then gossip, Cassiopeia simply looked out of the window and enjoyed the view.
"Where have you been? The carriages are almost here."
Corvus Malfoy smiled as he wrapped an arm around his fiancée and gave her a peck on the cheek in way of an answer. Fleur huffed indignantly but didn't push him away and that was all the encouragement he needed. His other arm came around her waist, minding the cloak, and pulled her closer to him. He gave her a kiss on the lips next and would have deepened it if not for the interrupting cough. Still, he could feel her smirking against his lips, and she didn't leave his embrace as she looked over her shoulder.
"I arrived on time." Corvus said as Georgina rolled her eyes. "Besides, they haven't even landed and gotten through Minister Renoux and Madame Maxime's speeches, we have plenty of time."
"I believe she's more worried about you ruining my appearance." Fleur said as she ran her hands over his formal dress robes. They were both sophisticated while also deceptively simple. The uniform itself – which had a hint of muggle business suit to it – was in a darker shade of Beauxbatons Blue and had the Royal Delacour sigil embossed on the front of his robes. A reminder of how awry his plans had gone and how well things had then turned out.
Even if it had taken years for him to accept it as the truth.
"Well, I did say to make her look magnificent," Corvus stepped back and gave Fleur a onceover. Her entire outfit followed Protocol nearly to the letter. The dress was of white arcomantula silk, and it hugged her figure that left little to the imagination. A sash of purple went from shoulder to hip and on it hung the Order of Paris Star. Over her shoulders was a flowing cloak of ermine fur that nearly brushed the ground. Per Protocol, she wore no jewelry save two pieces, her engagement ring, and her signet ring. It was all she needed anyway. "and I dare say she is the most beautiful woman I have ever laid eyes upon."
He smiled a true smile when a hint of red came upon Fleur's cheeks. She ducked her into the crook of his neck, and he hugged her close with a hand rubbing her arm. Georgina smiled fondly at the two of them for a moment before swooping in to break them up. She fluttered about Fleur, making sure everything was still in place, and then she did to same to him, much to his fiancée's amusement.
"Is it so hard to remain within Protocol for five minutes?" Georgina sighed as she adjusted his dress robes to her liking. Then she sent a look at Fleur. "And you need to stop encouraging him. I'm going to go grey before I reach twenty because of you two."
"And I love you as well, Georgina." Corvus said and felt Fleur stiffen in his arms slightly. Even now, she's so very jealous, and it's so easy to press her buttons. He ghosted his hand up her arm, cupping her cheek, and tilting her head up so that he could look into her eyes. Blue tinged with violet stared back at him. "And we only get one go at life, so we might as well live it to the fullest, even if it means breaking Protocol."
He decided not to dwell too long on how ironic that truly was.
As Georgina rolled her eyes at that and grumbled off to the side, Fleur fisted the lapels of his dress robes, and pulled him down into a kiss. Her lips were soft, but the kiss was rough, and she nipped at his lower lip as she pulled back. "Mine." Her English had a hint of French to it. "My Mate." Eyes were flashed fully violet for a second that sent a shiver down his spine.
"You know," Corvus watched as the violet bled away and the blue returned. "it's particularly enticing when you get so possessive, and sexy too."
Fleur flared her allure at him, and he groaned as it hit. He spotted Georgina stiffening from the corner of his eye. It wouldn't do anything to her, a Veela could not fall under the influence of another Veela, but he was fully human. Corvus watched as Fleur's eyes flashed fully violet for a moment and though he was mostly immune to the thrall, he could still feel it on the edges of his being. It was like a warm embrace that he could see himself falling into and never leaving.
The clearing of a throat sounded off to the side, causing Fleur and Corvus to look away from one another, and towards Georgina who was only slightly flushed in the cheeks. There was definitely a complex social hierarchy that all the Veela currently attending Beauxbatons were playing at, and Fleur had cemented herself at the top. He spent too much time around them to not notice, though his understanding of it was still lacking, and he had all but given up on trying to. But that didn't stop him from occasionally throwing fuel on the fire and then watching how it burned.
"Come." Fleur gave his lapel one final tug as she made her way towards the doors. The palace sitting rooms offered a great view of Victoria's Square below and as Corvus walked by the window he could see the assembled mass of Hogwarts students below. Somewhere in that crowd were his siblings. "let's get this over with."
"Don't sound too excited now." Corvus said as he followed not far behind, while Georgina brought up the rear. He felt slightly self-conscious as he caught sight of his reflection in a passing mirror. The specially made uniform was just a tad tighter than he usually wore. "Someone might get the wrong idea."
"What they think is of no concern to me." Fleur flung the doors open with a wave of her wand, which had come from somewhere, and sent him a smile over her shoulder. "I could care less if Beauxbatons was hosting this silly tournament or not."
"That's not what you told Gabby." Georgina called out from behind him.
"And I distinctly remember you complaining about not being allowed to compete in this 'silly tournament' that you have so aptly named it." Corvus said as they reached the Grand Staircase. Portraits of dead French nobles hung from the walls around them and most of painted people were prancing about the frames. Even the mounted knight statutes at the base of each landing were more active. The marble Abraxans fluttering their wings. "Wouldn't you agree, Georgina?"
"I do indeed, Corvus."
"You two are incorrigible." Fleur said as she turned to look at the two of them. Corvus could see that she was trying to look angry, but the upturned corner of her lips betrayed her actual feelings, and it was a triumphant wink that he sent to Georgina.
"Now let's go and get your totally silly speech to these silly British brutes done before we miss dinner entirely." Corvus quickly wrapped an arm around Fleur's shoulders and steered her down the staircase. He ignored the way she was pouting at him as well as the slight blush on Georgina's face. Jesus Christ, it was too easy to push a Veela's buttons, and by the look on Fleur's face I'm going to be paying for it later.
Her pout turned into a grin that was all teeth. It was positively predatory and as they reached the bottom of the Grand Staircase, she pulled him close, her lips brushing his ear. "Don't think I don't know what you're doing. I'm the one in charge after all." Her tone was sweet but the look in her eyes spelled a different story. Oh, it was one of those looks, and a part of him felt excited by it.
Which had been a surprising revelation in itself, but then again, the French were nothing if not sensual.
"Well, I live to serve, my little flower." Corvus said with a grin, and he pulled away from Fleur before she could retaliate, but he did catch sight of her eyes bleeding violet for a second. The three of them had reached the Atrium and the voice of Minister Renoux could be heard through the Golden Doors. They were also not alone, at least a dozen French Aurors stood guard at the entrance with six on either side of the doors, and all of them bowed slightly at the sight of them.
He watched as Fleur composed herself so quickly that most wouldn't have seen anything but the well-controlled princess. She had her back straight and head held high, a small nod given to the Aurors in acknowledgement, and then her eyes flicked back to him. Corvus didn't miss the way she flashed her eyes violet at him. Her allure was flared as well – Georgina stiffening off to the side while the Aurors shifted slightly – and before she could do anything the Golden Doors were opening.
All of the Aurors in the Atrium snapped to attention, black boots clicking together, backs straight as a rod with eyes forwards. Corvus gave a final tug to his own dress robes as the doors fully opened and revealed the mass of people before them. Lots of black robes and colored ties that were so Hogwarts in style. As well as many familiar faces that he'd hope to have avoided this time around.
Can't win them all it seems, Corvus thought to himself as Minister Renoux and Madame Maxime led from the front of the very large group, damn timeline.
"Your Royal Highness." Minister Renoux said – in his accented English, Corvus noted – as he nodded his head. He wasn't technically required to do so, Protocol dictated that the Minister of Magic and the Princess of Paris were of equal rank, and Corvus mentally prepared himself for all the bowing and scraping to start. I bet they don't do all of this in America.
"Minister Renoux." Fleur inclined her head ever so slightly, her court smile on her face, hands held in front of her like Protocol dictated. It was a very intimidating image. Especially when they realized that she was a Veela and could literally throw balls of fire from her hands at them if she so wished.
"Your Royal Highness." Madame Maxime stuck with French as she nodded, a woman as tall as she was curtsying would have looked ridiculous, so an exception had been made. Though, she also technically didn't need to do so, seeing as she was their Headmistress, and they were still students of Beauxbatons.
"Madame Maxime." Fleur's smile was more genuine, and she inclined her head deeper.
"Your Grace." Minister Renoux then offered Corvus a hand which he reluctantly shook it. The sooner all of this was over the better. He returned the greeting, made some idle and meaningless chatter, and then sent the man down to Georgina. Much the same was given to Madame Maxime, though she had a small smile to her lips, and she even cracked a small joke about the entire situation.
They both knew and agreed on how ridiculous some of the things that Protocol demanded were.
"Ma'am," Minister Renoux returned to Fleur after greeting Georgina. He was built like a man who had never done physical labor in his life, thin limbs, and a slight stomach to him. "may I introduce you to the students and staff of Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry, one of the competing schools in the Tri-Wizard Tournament."
The Atrium had filled up with students by then, it still shocked him to see how many people the place could fit at once, and all of them bowed or curtsied at the not-so-subtle signal that was given. He noted that the older students managed the movement better than the younger ones, while some of them looked confused at why they were doing it in the first place, and that was a somewhat amusing sight. Everyone at Beauxbatons from the Purebloods to the Non-Magique-born came in to their first year already knowing the movements.
Wait, Non-Magique-born? Corvus blinked at that. Oh god, what the hell happened to Muggle-born, and how long have I been using the French phrases? Ah shit, I bet I can't even speak English without a French accent anymore. Though, at least the food tastes better on the continent, and the uniforms look nicer.
"Thank you, Minister Renoux." Fleur said with a small nod to the Minister before turning to the rest of the Atrium. He felt a hint of her allure brush up against him and he didn't doubt that she was flaring it so that everyone paid attention to her. It felt like cheating, but Corvus didn't judge her for it, the speech she had to give was a tad dull even by French standards. "Welcome to the Beauxbatons Academy for Magic. As you know, I am-"
He tuned the speech out at that point, he'd been there with Georgina when Fleur had practiced it, and instead set about scanning the crowd for familiar faces. It looked like the seventh-year students were placed at the front of the group, a smart move, since they all knew the basics of how to act around nobility and purebloods. The twelve Aurors had positioned themselves around the Atrium at the edges of the mass of Hogwarts students with the Golden Doors shut.
As his eyes slid back to the students, Corvus spotted a certain boy wonder amongst a gaggle of Gryffindors with a bushy haired girl and a redheaded boy, and he couldn't help but wonder how the tournament would play out this time around. It wasn't just the three tasks for the champions to contend with. Madame Maxime had really gone all out. A three-way quidditch tournament, dueling tournaments, and an academic tournament were all planned as well. He did not doubt that it was going to get rather hectic at Beauxbatons, and through it all, Voldemort's plan to resurrect himself was still in motion.
It made him wonder if he should stick his head into that mess again, even though he had come to Beauxbatons to avoid it all, and now the ugly visage of responsibility again reared its head at him.
Just because I know what's going to happen doesn't mean I'm responsible for preventing it, Corvus thought to himself as he continued to look over the crowd, I didn't ask for any of this and it's not my war to fight.
Corvus was not going to throw himself in front of Voldemort for someone like Harry Potter. He may be the Boy-Who-Lived, but he wasn't family, not like Draco and Cassiopeia were. The familiar white-blonde curls of Cassiopeia stood out in the crowd and Corvus could see his sister speaking with a taller girl with black hair. Draco on the other hand was in between the two lumbering idiots like always. Some things never did change.
He also spotted greasy haired head of one Severus Snape. The man was as he remembered him to be, intolerant and contemptuous of nearly everyone around him, and he was still garbed in all black robes. A dangerous man, and though Corvus doubted he would do anything incriminating at Beauxbatons, he resigned himself to keeping one eye on the man whenever possible.
Then the air suddenly filled with the sounds of clapping. Corvus looked to Fleur and found that she had finished with her speech, a polite but dazzling smile on her face, hands clasped in front of her. He quickly added his own applause and then groaned as he realized that a whole lot more bowing and scrapping was about to start. Indeed, the magenta robed man known as Dumbledore was already making his way towards them, with the rest of the professors following not far behind. He truly envied the Hogwarts students who were following Madame Maxime towards the Great Hall.
"Your Royal Highness." Dumbledore said with a smile, though Corvus noted that it didn't quite reach his eyes. He bowed his head slightly, though barely low enough to conform with Protocol, and he was certain that he wasn't the only one to have noticed.
"Mr. Dumbledore." Fleur said in return and Corvus had to fight the smile that threatened to come to his lips. Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore was probably one of the most powerful wizards in the world. He had numerous titles, though none of them noble, and commanded almost universal respect. Must have been a true blow to his ego when Fleur disregarded it all in only two words.
Corvus chuckled to himself about it throughout the rest of the greetings. Minerva McGonagall was stern faced but kind. Pomona Sprout was grandmotherly with them all. Filius Flitwick was cordial and mannered. Severus Snape was succinct and hid his scowl surprisingly well. The rest of the professors whose names he forgot as soon as he heard them were all much the same, agreeable, but slightly out of place in the blue and gold walls of Beauxbatons. Of course, there was also Hagrid, who greeted them all with his own brand of formality.
It was surprisingly refreshing and quite entertaining to watch the half-giant go through the motions.
"Come along now, we best get going less we miss dinner entirely." Minister Renoux said with a chuckle. The rest of the group chuckled as well and followed the man as he led the way. Corvus looped his arm around Fleur's and maneuvered them both so that the Aurors acted as a buffer with the rest of the group.
"So, how was your silly speech to the silly British brutes?" He leaned into her slightly and felt the grip on his arm tighten slightly. "Not too arduous I hope?"
She simply gave him a look that spoke a thousand words. He was getting quite familiar with them all, it didn't even take that long for him to decipher the meaning of her features, and it was a softer smile that he returned to her. He got one right back and this time, when she flared her allure at him, it came as more of a soft embrace.
"Now, I don't want to sound like a broken record or anything," Corvus grinned as he spoke, and Fleur raised a manicured eyebrow at him. "but must we really go through all this pageantry? I'm certain that the students of Durmstrang cares not for it."
Fleur's eyes widened as she bit her lip and fought off a sudden bought of laughter, while Corvus simply wiggled an eyebrow at her, and basked in the glory of triumph.