JE NE SUIS PAS MA SOUER: The Story of Gabrielle Delacour
Summary: A few years ago, Fleur Delacour traveled to Hogwarts from her native France and honored her school by competing in the Triwizard Tournament. During the second task, it became known that the most important thing to her in the world was her little sister. Now, three years later, Fleur's little sister Gabrielle is ready to begin her years at Beauxbatons Academy of Magic. Though the long silvery-blonde hair is the same, Gabrielle is not her sister. How far will she go to show the magical world who she is, and who she is not?
A/N: I decided to do this for a number of reasons:
It's unique. I can avoid clichès and can write something without worrying that someone else has already done it.
2) I can create the Gabrielle's world and friends on my own instead of having to use friends already created or bringing in the Mary-Sue-type-of- American-foreign-exchange-student.
France is cool! I've never been there, nor do I claim to know a whole lot about it, and I don't speak French fluently (I speak it but not that well- I take it in school.) But I still think it's a really neat country and I want to go there some day.
I'm hoping, since this is fairly original, I'll get lots of readers and reviewers.
I'm sick of my other stories. "One Thousand Galleons" sounds so fake and stupid now that I reread it. "Tom Riddle's Diary" I've just lost my enthusiasm for- after all, we all know how it's going to turn out. "To See the Thestrals" I will still post on, but it will take more time and as it's kind of a mood piece, I need to be in the right mood. And right now, I'm not. All my other works are one-shot fics.
So, have I bored you all to death yet? I hope not! Oh, and if you're wondering, JE NE SUIS PAS MA SOUER (hopefully correct French, I'm getting lazy since school got out!) means "I am not my sister". Also, as to the dialogue: when the French characters (mainly Fleur) speak English, it will be written as though she is speaking with a French accent (ie "I 'ope to eemprove my Eenglish". When they are speaking in French, it will be written as normal English.
Rating: PG for now. Maybe PG-13 later, depends on where the plot goes!
~Chapter One- Someone Sweet, and Someone Very, Very Sour~
The last month before Gabrielle Delacour's first year of school was a mountain. At least, that's how Gabrielle pictured it. The first two weeks were the uphill part of the mountain- they were getting ready for her 'dear sister Fleur's' return home. Every time Gabrielle heard that phrase, she did something between a snort and a gag. Right. Her dear sister. Her dear sister who was the pride and joy of the family. Her dear sister who had been given the honor of being a Triwizard Champion. Her dear sister who couldn't even save Gabrielle from the merpeople in the Hogwarts lake.
The peak of the mountain was Fleur's arrival. It had been two years since the family had seen Fleur, and of course everyone was just thrilled. Gabrielle could actually feel a tremor of excitement pass through the room when Fleur walked in.
Fleur greeted her parents first, and then, spotting Gabrielle, rushed over to her sister and swept her up in a hug. "Ah, Gabrielle! I meesed you!" Gabrielle struggled to extract herself from her sister's heavily perfumed hold.
"Speak French, Fleur," Gabrielle grunted. "And what scent are you wearing? It's-" she had been about to say 'abysmal' when Fleur interrupted eagerly, "It's from Bill! Do you like it?" Gabrielle bit back the nasty reply she longed to utter.
"Er. . . . yes, it's really nice," she lied, then mentally kicked herself. Why was it that she could hate everything about Fleur, hate Fleur for giving her, Gabrielle, a name to live up to, and vow to be rude and mean to her, yet when she was actually faced with Fleur, she couldn't be anything but nice? It was that damn veela blood, she decided.
Of course, once Fleur was settled in, everything began to go downhill- steeply and quickly downhill. Fleur wanted to spend every minute of every day with Gabrielle, telling her how to behave at school ("Remember, you are a Delacour, and my little sister, so make sure everyone gives you the utmost respect. They owe it to you." "Er. . . .why?"), helping her get her school supplies and uniform ("I just love the way these robes accentuate my hair- I mean, your hair." "Shuttup, Fleur. It's a uniform."), and just being a general nuisance.
When at last the day came for Gabrielle to depart for school, she was beyond excited. She could hardly wait to escape Fleur and begin to make her OWN life. But this proved to be more difficult than she could ever have imagined.
Beauxbatons Academy of Magic sent private, pale blue carriages to the homes of students every year on the first of September to bring the students to school. Gabrielle was not the sentimental type. Unfortunately, the rest of her family was. She suspected that the arrival of the carriage would be accompanied by a large amount of hugging and kissing courtesy of Fleur, buckets of tears cried by her mother, and a great deal of back-patting and shoulder-clapping and carrying on about upholding the family's good name from her father. Because of this, Gabrielle had made a plan. Just before one o'clock, when the carriage was due to arrive, Gabrielle was going to announce to her family that she wanted to say goodbye to the neighbor girl, Mimi, a Muggle who thought that Gabrielle was going away to ordinary boarding school. Gabrielle had, in fact, already said her farewells to Mimi two days ago. She was actually going to hurry down to the end of her street, Rue de la Mer, and hail the carriage before it got to her house and depart from there.
Mean and sneaky? Maybe. But Gabrielle didn't really care. She did decide to leave her family a letter on the front step, so when they went to look for her (which they inevitably would) they would know where she went. It said:
Dear Maman, Father, and Fleur,
Okay, first of all, Fleur, stop pacing! I heard you adopted that habit during the Triwizard Tournament, and I can tell you, it's thoroughly annoying to hear the floorboards creaking whenever you're annoyed. And Maman, you had better not be crying! Get her some strong black coffee, Father, that usually calms her down.
Now. As to where I am. If you haven't figured it out already, I'm happily along my way to Beauxbatons in the carriage. You see I, unlike Fleur, despise having a fuss made over me. So I decided to go away quietly.
Enjoy your autumn. I'll write you and tell you if I'm coming home for the holiday.
Gabrielle
Gabrielle's escape went smoothly enough, although she had her doubts about how her family would react when they found the letter. Once she was in the pale blue carriage, however, all her worries evaporated. She sat with her cheek pressed against the window, watching the houses race by. The carriage seemed to be going rather fast, but the driver didn't seem to mind.
And then, all at once, it stopped, right in front of a large white house.
"Er. . . sir?" Gabrielle ventured. The driver, who seemed to be about twenty, twisted around in his seat.
"Yes?" he asked, sounding rather annoyed. 'Well, that won't do,' Gabrielle thought to herself. 'I haven't done anything to annoy him.'
"If you don't mind, SIR, I was wondering why we were stopped. But perhaps I'd better save all my questions for school."
"Yes, perhaps you had," the boy snapped. "But for your information, we are picking another student up. You don't get a carriage all to yourself, you know. Just because you're a Delacour doesn't make you a princess." All of the sudden, something clicked.
"Did you know Fleur?" she asked quickly.
"Unfortunately," he muttered, before exclaiming "Ah! Here she is."
"Hello, Jacques," a girl with shining black curls said. He hopped out and she allowed him to help her into the carriage. "Oh my!" the girl exclaimed when she saw Gabrielle. "You look exactly like Fleur- you know, the famous Fleur Delacour? She's always at our house, of course, my sister is great friends with her. I don't suppose you've met her or anything, of course, but I can tell you all about her if you like. She simply adores her, says I'm like a little sister to her."
"Does she really?" Gabrielle asked, amused. This girl, whoever she was, didn't seem to realize that she was Fleur's sister. The girl nodded vigorously, and Gabrielle thought of another question. "Who are you?"
"Menary Carille," she responded quickly.
"Hmmm, my sister's never mentioned you," Gabrielle said, mock-carelessly.
"Really. And who are YOU, might I ask, and who is your sister?"
Gabrielle grinned at her. "Well, you said you know my sister quite well. I'm Gabrielle Delacour. Nice to meet you." She stuck out her hand, but Menary ignored it. The pretty girl's jaw dropped rather unattractively, and Gabrielle suppressed a laugh. Fleur had talked about the Carvilles- all about how Eleanora Carville had hated Fleur before Fleur became famous, and now absolutely simpered over her. Fleur called her a foolish girl. Gabrielle preferred the term 'suck-up'.
"So," Gabrielle said, conversationally. "When did you last see my sister."
"Oh," Menary said rather hurriedly. She attempted an airy tone. "About three months ago, I think."
"Hmmm," Gabrielle said, tapping her foot against the carriage door. "That's interesting. Because I know for a fact that Fleur has been in London for the past two years. Three months ago she was staying with the Weasleys."
Menary blushed a deep crimson.
"Look," Gabrielle informed her. "Don't go telling any more tales about knowing my sister. I'll dispell them all quickly enough, and make you look like an idiot in the process. You wouldn't want anyone else to hear a conversation like this one, would you? Especially not in a place like school where the rumors fly faster than a Firebolt. So, really, I'd advise you to quit acting like you're some sort of princess."
Menary glared at her. "I know your type," she spat at Gabrielle, her green eyes flashing, obviously hating the other girl. "So jealous of your sister that you go being rude and nasty to other people. You won't make any friends if you walk around looking like you're sucking on a lemon. And boys don't like the taste of unsweetened citrus," she added as an afterthought. Gabrielle was just about to ask her WHAT her last comment had to do with anything when Jacques the driver turned around.
"We're almost at school. About twenty more minutes, I think. Er, Menary, perhaps you ought to sit up here with me. You don't want- HER- to spoil your arrival at Beauxbatons." He tossed a nasty glance at Gabrielle and she shrugged, wondering what Fleur had done to him.
Gabrielle settled back in the blue-velvet cushioned seats and wondered exactly how many Menarys she would have to encounter upon her arrival at Beauxbatons.
A/N: Rather lame, I know, but it will get better, I promise. Please review. Oh, and the "sweet" person was Fleur and the "sour person" was Menary.
Summary: A few years ago, Fleur Delacour traveled to Hogwarts from her native France and honored her school by competing in the Triwizard Tournament. During the second task, it became known that the most important thing to her in the world was her little sister. Now, three years later, Fleur's little sister Gabrielle is ready to begin her years at Beauxbatons Academy of Magic. Though the long silvery-blonde hair is the same, Gabrielle is not her sister. How far will she go to show the magical world who she is, and who she is not?
A/N: I decided to do this for a number of reasons:
It's unique. I can avoid clichès and can write something without worrying that someone else has already done it.
2) I can create the Gabrielle's world and friends on my own instead of having to use friends already created or bringing in the Mary-Sue-type-of- American-foreign-exchange-student.
France is cool! I've never been there, nor do I claim to know a whole lot about it, and I don't speak French fluently (I speak it but not that well- I take it in school.) But I still think it's a really neat country and I want to go there some day.
I'm hoping, since this is fairly original, I'll get lots of readers and reviewers.
I'm sick of my other stories. "One Thousand Galleons" sounds so fake and stupid now that I reread it. "Tom Riddle's Diary" I've just lost my enthusiasm for- after all, we all know how it's going to turn out. "To See the Thestrals" I will still post on, but it will take more time and as it's kind of a mood piece, I need to be in the right mood. And right now, I'm not. All my other works are one-shot fics.
So, have I bored you all to death yet? I hope not! Oh, and if you're wondering, JE NE SUIS PAS MA SOUER (hopefully correct French, I'm getting lazy since school got out!) means "I am not my sister". Also, as to the dialogue: when the French characters (mainly Fleur) speak English, it will be written as though she is speaking with a French accent (ie "I 'ope to eemprove my Eenglish". When they are speaking in French, it will be written as normal English.
Rating: PG for now. Maybe PG-13 later, depends on where the plot goes!
~Chapter One- Someone Sweet, and Someone Very, Very Sour~
The last month before Gabrielle Delacour's first year of school was a mountain. At least, that's how Gabrielle pictured it. The first two weeks were the uphill part of the mountain- they were getting ready for her 'dear sister Fleur's' return home. Every time Gabrielle heard that phrase, she did something between a snort and a gag. Right. Her dear sister. Her dear sister who was the pride and joy of the family. Her dear sister who had been given the honor of being a Triwizard Champion. Her dear sister who couldn't even save Gabrielle from the merpeople in the Hogwarts lake.
The peak of the mountain was Fleur's arrival. It had been two years since the family had seen Fleur, and of course everyone was just thrilled. Gabrielle could actually feel a tremor of excitement pass through the room when Fleur walked in.
Fleur greeted her parents first, and then, spotting Gabrielle, rushed over to her sister and swept her up in a hug. "Ah, Gabrielle! I meesed you!" Gabrielle struggled to extract herself from her sister's heavily perfumed hold.
"Speak French, Fleur," Gabrielle grunted. "And what scent are you wearing? It's-" she had been about to say 'abysmal' when Fleur interrupted eagerly, "It's from Bill! Do you like it?" Gabrielle bit back the nasty reply she longed to utter.
"Er. . . . yes, it's really nice," she lied, then mentally kicked herself. Why was it that she could hate everything about Fleur, hate Fleur for giving her, Gabrielle, a name to live up to, and vow to be rude and mean to her, yet when she was actually faced with Fleur, she couldn't be anything but nice? It was that damn veela blood, she decided.
Of course, once Fleur was settled in, everything began to go downhill- steeply and quickly downhill. Fleur wanted to spend every minute of every day with Gabrielle, telling her how to behave at school ("Remember, you are a Delacour, and my little sister, so make sure everyone gives you the utmost respect. They owe it to you." "Er. . . .why?"), helping her get her school supplies and uniform ("I just love the way these robes accentuate my hair- I mean, your hair." "Shuttup, Fleur. It's a uniform."), and just being a general nuisance.
When at last the day came for Gabrielle to depart for school, she was beyond excited. She could hardly wait to escape Fleur and begin to make her OWN life. But this proved to be more difficult than she could ever have imagined.
Beauxbatons Academy of Magic sent private, pale blue carriages to the homes of students every year on the first of September to bring the students to school. Gabrielle was not the sentimental type. Unfortunately, the rest of her family was. She suspected that the arrival of the carriage would be accompanied by a large amount of hugging and kissing courtesy of Fleur, buckets of tears cried by her mother, and a great deal of back-patting and shoulder-clapping and carrying on about upholding the family's good name from her father. Because of this, Gabrielle had made a plan. Just before one o'clock, when the carriage was due to arrive, Gabrielle was going to announce to her family that she wanted to say goodbye to the neighbor girl, Mimi, a Muggle who thought that Gabrielle was going away to ordinary boarding school. Gabrielle had, in fact, already said her farewells to Mimi two days ago. She was actually going to hurry down to the end of her street, Rue de la Mer, and hail the carriage before it got to her house and depart from there.
Mean and sneaky? Maybe. But Gabrielle didn't really care. She did decide to leave her family a letter on the front step, so when they went to look for her (which they inevitably would) they would know where she went. It said:
Dear Maman, Father, and Fleur,
Okay, first of all, Fleur, stop pacing! I heard you adopted that habit during the Triwizard Tournament, and I can tell you, it's thoroughly annoying to hear the floorboards creaking whenever you're annoyed. And Maman, you had better not be crying! Get her some strong black coffee, Father, that usually calms her down.
Now. As to where I am. If you haven't figured it out already, I'm happily along my way to Beauxbatons in the carriage. You see I, unlike Fleur, despise having a fuss made over me. So I decided to go away quietly.
Enjoy your autumn. I'll write you and tell you if I'm coming home for the holiday.
Gabrielle
Gabrielle's escape went smoothly enough, although she had her doubts about how her family would react when they found the letter. Once she was in the pale blue carriage, however, all her worries evaporated. She sat with her cheek pressed against the window, watching the houses race by. The carriage seemed to be going rather fast, but the driver didn't seem to mind.
And then, all at once, it stopped, right in front of a large white house.
"Er. . . sir?" Gabrielle ventured. The driver, who seemed to be about twenty, twisted around in his seat.
"Yes?" he asked, sounding rather annoyed. 'Well, that won't do,' Gabrielle thought to herself. 'I haven't done anything to annoy him.'
"If you don't mind, SIR, I was wondering why we were stopped. But perhaps I'd better save all my questions for school."
"Yes, perhaps you had," the boy snapped. "But for your information, we are picking another student up. You don't get a carriage all to yourself, you know. Just because you're a Delacour doesn't make you a princess." All of the sudden, something clicked.
"Did you know Fleur?" she asked quickly.
"Unfortunately," he muttered, before exclaiming "Ah! Here she is."
"Hello, Jacques," a girl with shining black curls said. He hopped out and she allowed him to help her into the carriage. "Oh my!" the girl exclaimed when she saw Gabrielle. "You look exactly like Fleur- you know, the famous Fleur Delacour? She's always at our house, of course, my sister is great friends with her. I don't suppose you've met her or anything, of course, but I can tell you all about her if you like. She simply adores her, says I'm like a little sister to her."
"Does she really?" Gabrielle asked, amused. This girl, whoever she was, didn't seem to realize that she was Fleur's sister. The girl nodded vigorously, and Gabrielle thought of another question. "Who are you?"
"Menary Carille," she responded quickly.
"Hmmm, my sister's never mentioned you," Gabrielle said, mock-carelessly.
"Really. And who are YOU, might I ask, and who is your sister?"
Gabrielle grinned at her. "Well, you said you know my sister quite well. I'm Gabrielle Delacour. Nice to meet you." She stuck out her hand, but Menary ignored it. The pretty girl's jaw dropped rather unattractively, and Gabrielle suppressed a laugh. Fleur had talked about the Carvilles- all about how Eleanora Carville had hated Fleur before Fleur became famous, and now absolutely simpered over her. Fleur called her a foolish girl. Gabrielle preferred the term 'suck-up'.
"So," Gabrielle said, conversationally. "When did you last see my sister."
"Oh," Menary said rather hurriedly. She attempted an airy tone. "About three months ago, I think."
"Hmmm," Gabrielle said, tapping her foot against the carriage door. "That's interesting. Because I know for a fact that Fleur has been in London for the past two years. Three months ago she was staying with the Weasleys."
Menary blushed a deep crimson.
"Look," Gabrielle informed her. "Don't go telling any more tales about knowing my sister. I'll dispell them all quickly enough, and make you look like an idiot in the process. You wouldn't want anyone else to hear a conversation like this one, would you? Especially not in a place like school where the rumors fly faster than a Firebolt. So, really, I'd advise you to quit acting like you're some sort of princess."
Menary glared at her. "I know your type," she spat at Gabrielle, her green eyes flashing, obviously hating the other girl. "So jealous of your sister that you go being rude and nasty to other people. You won't make any friends if you walk around looking like you're sucking on a lemon. And boys don't like the taste of unsweetened citrus," she added as an afterthought. Gabrielle was just about to ask her WHAT her last comment had to do with anything when Jacques the driver turned around.
"We're almost at school. About twenty more minutes, I think. Er, Menary, perhaps you ought to sit up here with me. You don't want- HER- to spoil your arrival at Beauxbatons." He tossed a nasty glance at Gabrielle and she shrugged, wondering what Fleur had done to him.
Gabrielle settled back in the blue-velvet cushioned seats and wondered exactly how many Menarys she would have to encounter upon her arrival at Beauxbatons.
A/N: Rather lame, I know, but it will get better, I promise. Please review. Oh, and the "sweet" person was Fleur and the "sour person" was Menary.