Sept. 8th, 1994
It's only a week, but it seems like ages. Weird, how fast the old routine catches again. One day exactly like the other, nothing special ever happens, which is why I haven't been back to you for all these days; there'd not have been anything to write about at all.
Tomorrow's the first Batonville weekend. As usual, every single boy from fifth year up – and probably one or two second years as well - has asked me to go to Les Trois Balais with him. And as usual, I have declined each invitation in my well known haughty manner. I sometimes wonder if they will never learn … I mean, how often have they asked me this kind of thing, and how often have they been rejected? It's a nuisance being a quarter-veela only, Grand mere could at least transform and scare the pants off her admirers whenever she got fed up with them. (Mama would be shocked at the language I have just been using! "Fleur, you are a LADY!")
I wonder if I should accept an invitation for once? There wouldn't be any harm in going to the brasserie with a boy, would there? I'd make it perfectly clear from the outset it was nothing more than a chat, so if he'd get any stupid ideas it would be his own fault. This way, I could go together with Charmaine and Yves and wouldn't feel left out – Why not give it a try?
Sept. 9th, 1994
11.30 a.m. – I've just told Patrice I'll go to Batonville with him. I've never seen anyone turn so red, and it took all I could do not to laugh right into this tomato coloured face.
"Mind you, it's just this afternoon, don't you get any ideas," I told him. I wanted to be fair right from the beginning. "I'm not committing myself to anything, and I don't want you to feel under any obligation, either. Get me?"
"What? Yes, yes of course, whatever you say …"
When I went up to the dormitory, he was still standing there in the common room like in a trance. I'm not really certain that he heard a single word of what I was saying.
11.30 p.m. – I might have known. Complete disaster!
I took great care with my appearance, so as not to set Charmaine back too much. It's really unfortunate that I simply can't magick myself into looking plain and average – another annoying veela heritage, but I did my best: forced my hair back in a single massive braid, set a spell on it to make it duller, put on some muggle make-up to make me look pale and dressed in my baggiest robes.
Charmaine seemed to appreciate my efforts.
"What have you been doing to your hair?" she inquired, when she saw me come out from the bathroom. "It looks awful! AND you're so pale! Are you going to be ill or something?"
Of course she could not imagine my motives, it would never enter her head to make herself deliberately less attractive, so I just smiled at her.
"I just thought it would make a change," I told her. "And I'm feeling perfectly all right, thanks."
"Oh, have it your own way," she shrugged. "What d'you think of me?"
She pirouetted in front of me in that annoying way of hers. She really didn't look too bad. The charm on her hair had been renewed, and it really shone with an almost authentic veela-like lustre; and she had carefully chosen her most elegant robes. Only that there is not much inside those robes to show off with.
The boys were waiting for us in the common room. If they found anything remarkable about our appearance, they didn't say it. I just noticed that both of them had their eyes on me most of the time.
The café was already full of students when we arrived. Everybody fell silent and stared at us entering. It was quite embarrassing, but it was even more embarasssing when they all made a point of averting their eyes and resuming their conversation. We found a table in the very centre of the room, so everyone could conveniently watch us without having to turn their necks too awkwardly. The boys went to get some biere-a-beurre and presently returned. I noticed that several of the other boys were winking at Patrice and secretly giving him the thumbs-up, and it annoyed me a good deal already, especially when I saw the stupid grin with which he responded.
I don't remember much of the things we were talking about, the usual meaningless chatter about school, and how dreadful it is to have these long papers to write about Jeanne d'Arc and the role of magic in the Hundred-Years-War. Actually, I rather admire Jeanne. Considering the time she lived in it's surprising how she mustered the courage to do what she did. Of course, she could have used her powers for something more sensible than fighting in a stupid war between a couple of kings who couldn't have cared less for people like her. But then, I suppose those were different times …
Anyway, there we were, talking, or rather Yves and Patrice doing most of it, with Charmaine trying to get some words in here and there. And I noted that Yves was eyeing me all the time, hardly ever sparing a word for her, who, after all, was supposed to be his date. No, I was definitely not enjoying myself, and I might have had the sense to leave then and there.
But you know how it is: What with all those people looking at us, I didn't have the nerve, and so you might say it's partly my fault. However, I don't believe it can have been my fault that the stupid idiots got into that stupid argument.
"You know," Patrice was saying to nobody in particular but looking at me surreptitiously, as if to make sure I was paying attention to him. "In Canada, I learned to enter the minds of animals, and my teacher said I was very good at it. He had never seen anyone learn it so quickly, and he believes that I could even manage to do that with people, too, which is about the most difficult thing ever…"
It was embarrassingly obvious that he was bragging like this to impress me, - not that it worked, of course, at least not on me. It worked quite well with Yves, though.
"Oh, yeah," he said derisively. "They feed you those mushrooms, don't they, and you have god knows what hallucinations, and believe everything they tell you. AND what's the use, after all?"
Patrice had slowly turned red during these words.
"You bloody snob," he growled. "You're just jealous there's something I can do you can't. But believe me, I can do some other things you can't do in a million years ..."
And he put his arm around my shoulder.
If I could I'd have transformed instantly, I was so mad! I jumped up from my seat, giving his arm a violent tug that almost caused him lose his balance.
"How dare you!" I screamed at him, and I believe I turned absolutely purple with rage, in spite of my pale make-up. "And you, -" I turned to Yves who, was gaping at me, "provoking him like that – oh sod you all, you bloody stupid idiots!"
I felt my voice break, and stormed out of the cafe; the last thing I wanted was for anybody to see the tears in my eyes.
Of course, when Charmaine came back, she was fed up:
"I knew you'd ruin my date, how could I ever have been so stupid as to go out with you? No boy will ever be safe whenever you're around! I bet you've been hexing them, haven't you? Just leave me alone," she sobbed,when I wanted to point out the unfairness of her accusation. "You're a veela, you're doing this sort of thing for sports, I guess, How can you ever understand?"
Great. Now I've succeeded to make the only person here that used to be something like a friend hate me. Good job, considering it's just been the first week of the school year!