Chapter three: Letters and messages
Sept. 12th, 1994
Nothing much is happening. Patrice has tried to talk to me once or twice, but I keep ignoring him. Of course, he is best friends again with Yves, too. Sometimes I can see them talking quietly, giving me rather dirty looks when they think I'm not watching. What do I care? Or, rather, what dare I care? I'm pretty sure all the boys in the whole stupid school share the same opinion about me: Oh, yeah, man, good to look at (I just don't want to imagine what other thoughts they may get, and what they might picture themselves doing with me.) but hardly human, really. Everybody knows what veela are like, right? Cruel, heartless creatures whose only joy is torturing poor innocent boys by making them fall desperately in love with them.LOVE! How I hate this word! No, I don't hate it, really, what I hate is the perverse meaning people seem to give it. Love must be more than just the effect of an instinct, a function of glands triggered by an optical stimulus. I get so sick when I think what the only aim of this so-called love of theirs is! Do they want to know how I feel, are they interested in what kind of music I like, what books I read, what my dreams and fears are? No, there's only one thing on their minds...
If that's love, then give me hate any time!
At least, Charmaine is speaking to me again, after I promised solemnly, never to go out with her and a boy. I had no problem at all promising that, I really don't feel like doing anything of the kind ever again.
"I forgive you," she said magnanimously, and it took al my self-restraint to keep calm. As if there was anything I'd done that she could forgive me! But I kept quiet. "Thank you, Charmaine," I replied meekly; I almost added that I'd never do it again, but there was still some pride left in me, and so I stopped myself, sighed resignedly, and went over to hug her. Actually, I suspect that at least part of the reason for her to come round so soon is that she wants my help with her homework again, particularly in Charms, where, to be honest, she can use any help she can get.
I've sent an owl to Gabrielle, telling her about the incident with Patrice and Yves. I've exaggerated things a bit, because I hope it will amuse her and divert her from her boring days.
Sept. 18th, 1994
I should have known it was not a good idea to tell Gabrielle about those two stupid boys. I might have guessed Mama would get hold of the letter. And she didn't like it a bit, of course!Luckily, she hates public sensations that show any of us in a negative light, so she didn't send me a howler, as it would have embarrassed her more than me, but she did send me letter. I've decided to keep it if ever I should forget what kind of a person my mother is.
"Are you completely out of your mind? Have I taught you nothing at all? You know how important it is to make friends with the right people, and this Patrice of yours does not only seem to be a promising young wizard, he also is a Dulac, from one of the most ancient and important wizarding families in France. And I do not think I have to remind you how useful such connections can be. So whatever absolutely idiotic motives may have caused you to behave in this abysmally stupid way, I demand that you apologize and make use of the privilege of your heritage, although I am beginning to doubt if you even deserve it.
Also, I forbid you put absurd ideas into your sister's head, and so I will tell you quite frankly that I have decided to check on all the letters you write to her. It seems that you are developing a rebellious attitude that I am not going to accept, therefore, I will also be in close contact with Madame Maxime, who has promised to keep me informed about the progress of your schoolwork. You know that your family expects you to do nothing but your best, and I will not be satisfied with anything less.
If anything like this incident occurs again, I will seriously reconsider your future school carrier.
Your affectionate mother,
Isabeau Delacour
Affectionate, what a joke! Yes, Mama, you HAVE taught me something, you've taught me not to want to be like you! And he is not MY Patrice, and he'll never be if I can help it! –And I'll definitely not apologize!
I'll have to find a way to communicate with Gabrielle, though, without mother knowing. I couldn't stand not being able to tell her my real thoughts and feelings. After all, she's the only person I can reall confide in.
Sept. 19th, 1994
After dinner, Mme. Maxime made an announcement. The Triwizard Tournament is going to be held again, after a pause of a couple of centuries or so. I remember reading about it in Histoire de Beauxbatons. It used to be held every five years since the thirteenth century, among the leading wizarding schools of Europe. (Besides us, there is one in Britain and one somewhere in Eastern Europe, Bulgaria, if I remember correctly.) Apparently, the tasks were quite dangerous, and casualties were quite frequent, so that in the time of the eighteenth century, when it seems that a life began to count more than it used to, they stopped the competition. Mme. Maxime was going on about what a most excellent way it was of establishing ties between young witches and wizards of different nationalities, but I believe all she is really interested in is us winning. She stressed, of course, that everything would be quite safe, and that some Committee or other had taken all possible precautions, and that due to the developments in modern wizardry there would be practically no mortal danger. I didn't quite like the "practically", though.
There is going to be a competition for sixth students who wish to take part in the Tournament, in order to decide who is going to that school in Scotland, where it is taking place. The only condition is you have to be at least seventeen by October 31st. Just my luck that that's exactly my birthday, and knowing mother, she'll of course expect me to take part, - and win!
Charmaine has already declared that she thinks I'm raving mad to enter, and I did not bother to try to explain why I do. It's easy for her, as she's a couple of months younger than me.
Well, as there's no way mother will not hear about all this, anyway, it might be wise to be a dutiful daughter and write a letter to her telling her right away, and promising to do my very best, of course. And it really shouldn't be too difficult to get shortlisted to go to Scotland, at least.
Actually, it may be quite interesting to get to some new place, after all. I only hope I can take Grisabel with me.
Sept 22nd, 1994
Just got mother's letter. She can be the sweetest person in the world, as long as everybody does what she wants. Apparently, she thinks her telling me off has worked, and now she's giving me the carrot treatment after the stick. Said how brave I was to try out for the Tournament, just being so very young, and that she'd have understood if I had not – I don't even want to think what she'd have had to say to me if I really had not put my name down on that list! And she knows I'm going to win, of course, and wishes me all the best. And she signed "Your loving mother" this time, the hypocrite!
I have borrowed a book about the Tournament from the library, and I'm going to study it today, while Charmaine is in Batonville again. Perhaps I can get an idea of what to expect, - if I ever make it that far, that is.
Xxxxx
Thanks for reviewing. Yes, she MAY be OOC here, and if it was not for the scene after the second task, and the way she says goodbye to Harry at the end, I'd never have got the idea to present her in this way. After all, it must be quite hard to have everybody react on you the way people do about Fleur, so perhaps appearing conceited and cold is a way of self-defence.
If there's anybody out there who'd be willing to help me with some French expressions, please mail me, it would be great. And has anyone any idea what the Maisons de Beauxbatons might be called, or what their characteristics might be?