Oct. 5th, 1994
It's late at night, but although I'm rather tired I have to write this down. I'm so excited! I'm going to Britain! I'd never have believed it!
At dinner, I noticed a couple of empty seats at all the house tables. (I had skipped lunch, and Charmaine had very sweetly brought me a couple of things up to the dormitory.) When I asked Charmaine about this, she told me that several of the competitors seemed to have been hurt in the last task, and apparently were still in the infirmary. Margaux Bellefontaine, however, had obviously passed through the trial unscathed and was glaring at me from the other side of the table.
After we had finished our meal and the empty dishes had disappeared, Maxime rose from her seat, and the hall went quiet.
"The jury has worked out the results of the last competition. Let me say beforehand that there is no need to have a third round, as only eleven competitors have been able to complete this task; unfortunately, eighteen have not been able to find their way out in a reasonable time and had to be retrieved. And I must say that I feel a bit disappointed, I would have expected students of mine to be more resourceful. The eleven candidates who did manage, will of course all travel to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, - "
I think I stopped breathing for a moment, and then Charmaine threw her arms around me and screamed, "Oh my God! You're going!"
Similar scenes were going on at the other tables, people were jumping up, hugging each other, banging on tables or starting to sob.
Maxime watched the turmoil for a while, then she clapped her hands three times, and the noise slowly died down.
"As I was saying," she continued, "you will be going to Hogwarts, where an impartial magical judge will then select the Beauxbatons champion. I am sure that you will all be aware of the great honour this means, and trust you will do everything you can to live up to the expectations that are set on you. Naturally, although all the candidates will stay in Hogwarts during the length of the Tournament, everyone will have to attend regular lessons, although the champion will be exempt from final exams"
It turned out that they had not bothered awarding points, as there were only eleven of us, anyway, and the magical judge would apparently not be interested in them either. There are three candidates from Sylphide: Margaux, of course, Sylvain Bonsecours, and me. It's funny, I've never looked at Sylvain as somebody special, apparently he must have more qualities than meet the eye.
So I'm going to Hogwarts! I still cannot quite believe it. If I wake up tomorrow and it's still true, I'll send maman an owl. She'll not be beside herself with joy, she is never "beside herself" with anything, it's so unbecoming to show feelings, but she'll be pleased with me, and that's something.
Oct. 6th, 1994
What a relief! People are talking to each other again! Now that the stress of the competition is over and there is nothing anyone can do at the moment to increase their chances of being selected for champion, the tension among the students has died down. People are talking about their experiences, and so I have heard about some more details.
The teachers must have used some special charm, because each of us was alone during the competition, although apparently we were all in the same cave, and had to deal with the same obstacles.
Very few realised that that bull was only an illusion, and some of those who had been carrying weapons even managed to hurt themselves trying to fight it. It seems that as long as you didn't realise it was not real, it wouldn't disappear, and so several candidates could not even get past this first difficulty.
One or two who had been wearing chain mail almost got drowned in the river and had to be fished out, while another, after successfully dealing with the waterfall, fell asleep on the shore and had to be woken up when time had run out.
Most of the people who didn't finish the competition, however, could not figure out how to get through the wall of fire, and there were also rather a lot of serious burns.
And of course, a lot of accidents also occurred during the last part, quite some candidates could not stop their fall in time. Naturally, there was a cushioning spell installed below the cliffs, but nevertheless, several bruises and dislocations were the result.
Most amazing of all, something like – well, not exactly friendship, but respect or acceptance seems to be developing between Margaux and me. This evening at dinner, Margaux, who usually sits somewhere at the opposite side of the table and had hardly ever talked to me at all, except when demanding things from me in an unfriendly tone, came up to me while I was chatting away to Charmaine.
"Excuse me," she said, sounding the friendliest I had ever heard her. "Would you mind terribly if I sat down here?" She indicated the seat at my side.
I was so surprised it took me second or two to answer.
"Well, yes, I suppose so – I mean, no, - oh, just sit." I was annoyed with myself for babbling like an idiot, but this was really the last thing I had expected. She ran her fingers through her short black curls awkwardly and gave me a funny little smile. Then she grabbed the chair and sat down.
"I can imagine this seems funny to you," she said. "But I thought there's no point anymore in thinking of us as rivals. So why shouldn't we be friendly with each other?"
I had found my composure. "Hm, I believe you have a point here. It's just you've never really noticed me before..."
"I know, and I'm sorry. I suppose somehow I always thought of you – erm – you know..." she faltered, embarrassed.
"The blonde bimbo," I finished the sentence for her, unable to keep the bitterness out of my voice," whose only talent lies in breaking poor boys' hearts, right?"
"Well – " she squirmed in her seat and twisted her fingers. I know I should be ashamed of myself, but I must admit I enjoyed her uneasiness.
"Forget it," I said finally, "it's nothing new to me. But apparently you have changed your mind about this one?"
Her embarrassment seemed to subside.
"Well," she said again, "obviously you are not the – " she hesitated, but then, with a visible effort, continued, "dumb pin-up I took you for, coming through this competition successfully. And I just wanted to tell you that, I suppose. – Hm, I guess I'd better be going over to my usual seat," she finished lamely, starting to get up.
"No," I said, putting my hand on her arm, "just stay here, please. You don't know how much this means to me. It's about the first time someone acknowledges something else but my looks. And I don't mind repaying your compliment: You are not the stuck-up snotty prig I took YOU for, and I do admire your courage in coming up and telling me all this." (Looking back this was a wicked thing to tell her, but I just couldn't help myself.)
She relaxed visibly and her smile became more open.
"Thanks for taking it this way. Now let's just enjoy dinner, shall we?"
During and after dinner, we mainly told each other how we had managed in the cave. Margaux, of course, being in seventh year already, had been able to use more advanced spells than me. For example, she had used a freezing charm on the river and then changed the vertical waterfall into a gentle slope of ice that she could conveniently slide down. And she had transfigured her robes into salamander skin and thus crossed the fire.
"But your idea with vestimentum glaciale was just as good," she told me, and I must admit I felt flattered in spite of myself.
Eventually, she said good night and went over to her seventh year friends, and I turned to chat some more to Charmaine, who looked somewhat miffed because I had been more or less ignoring her for the last half hour or so.
Now it's 10.30, Charmaine has already gone to bed, and I'll do the same presently. I have not been in such a good mood for a long time, I mean, I've made it into the shortlist for champion, and someone seems to actually respect or even like me for my brains instead of my appearance. And I'm going to Scotland, too! It's a shame they don't cancel lessons for us, over there, but one can't have everything, I suppose. Which reminds me, I've still got to do that Potions essay. 'Evaluate the dangers and merits of the use of scorpion stings in resuscitation potions' - 150 cm of parchment. I've not even started, and it's due tomorrow. Well, old Venefice will surely be happy enough if a possible champion hands in her stupid essay a couple of days late, so I won't worry too much about this.
Oct. 7th, 1994
Had an enthusiastic letter from my mother, - well, as far as she can be enthusiastic, that is. Calling me her dearest daughter, saying how very proud of me she is, and, of course, how it has paid to apply myself, bla bla. And also, being my mother, stressing how sure she is that I'll do my best and all the family believing in me, and so on and so on. Honestly, I did almost wish I had not made it on to the shortlist.
Actually, I really am in two minds about that tournament. It's great to get away from the normal school routine, and to get to know something new, to be sure. However, I'm not so sure whether I'd like to take all the risks connected with it. I keep telling myself that I'll probably not get chosen anyway, after all, there are ten seventh year students, who know a lot more about practical magic, but somehow I have a weird feeling that it's not experience or knowledge that will count.
I loved Gabrielle's letter, though. It's so sweet how relieved she is that I am fine after all these adventures, and I would so love to see her and give her a great big hug.
Still got to do some 40 cm of parchment for my potions essay, so I'd better start on that now.
Oct. 9th, 1994
Just the thing I needed! A reporter of Semaine Sorciere was here today They are doing a bit on the Tournament, so we had to gather in the Hall and crowd around Mme. Maxime, to have our picture taken. Then Maxime generously allowed the reporter to interview the "prospective champions".
I had seen the photographer's eyes light up when he spotted me among the students, and tried to make myself as inconspicuous as possible, but it was no use, of course. The reporter headed straight towards me and started to ask me all those stupid questions. How I felt about going to Scotland, and what chances I gave myself of being chosen to be champion. What my parents said about the whole thing, and if I was proud of being on the shortlist in spite of being so young. All simple and straightforward questions that he might have asked anyone.
The photographer was taking photos of me all the time, which soon started to irritate me, and then the stupid idiot asked,
"Isn't it unusual for someone of veela ancestry to go in for such an exhausting and potentially dangerous task? I mean, one would expect your talents to lie in a somewhat different field?"
Maybe I'm really paranoid, but looking at him I had a very clear impression of the sort od 'talents' he had in mind.
"I think I have proved my talents, thank you very much," I hissed at him, and I was satisfied to see a spark of fear in his eyes. "And it has nothing whatsoever to do with my ancestry. And while you're at it, tell those readers of yours a person's personality goes beyond the pictures you see in a glossy magazine. Now if you'll excuse me – "
And I stormed off for a long walk in the park.
Oct. 10th, 1994
The new issue of Semaine Sorciere has arrived. They've put my picture on the cover, with a collage of dragons, mounted knights and walls of fire as a background. I think I look terribly silly, a naive smile on my face and my hair flying all over the page. I wonder how they did it, there was definitely no wind in the Hall where they took all those pictures.
The article itself is rather harmless, although, of course, not very exacting on the readers' intelligence. Next to zero information and full of expressions like 'spirited', 'courageous', 'clever' etc. They have not even bothered printing anything anyone told the reporter, there is just Mme. Maxime's piece about the importance of international relations and getting to learn tolerance appreciation of different cultures. The whole thing extends over two pages, and about three quarters of it is just pictures.
Charmaine has not made her mind up yet whether to be jealous or proud of being my friend. But I trust with a little persuasion she'll come round. Margaux, at any rate, has had a good laugh about the article, which has given my spirits quite a boost. We are really starting to get closer.
Oct. 15th, 1994
Same old routine, lessons, homework, presentations; I sometimes ask myself whether the whole thing really happened.
Oct. 25th, 1994
Or departure has been announced! We'll be leaving Friday, the thirtieth, after lunch. We are to take one trunk with personal belongings. Must find out whether I can take Grisabel along.
Xxx
Asked Maxime, and after some discussion convinced her to let me take my cat. I argued that having her with me would attribute to my balance of mind and so further my chances in the Tournament. Maxime was obviously preoccupied, so she agreed without any fuss. I'm happy I can take Grisabel, and I hope she'll like that mouldy old castle, - there are sure to be lots of mice there..
Xxx
At dinner, Maxime informed us that we will need dress robes! Seems there is going to be a ball! She was quite adamant that everyone must have some; apparently, it's in the interest of the school's reputation to do our best to show off as much as we can. Considering that the terms 'Haute Couture' and 'Britain' more or less exclude each other, this shouldn't be too difficult, but knowing the way boys behave around me, I hate the idea.
However, these being our headmistress' explicit orders, there's not really anything I can do, so I'll tell mother to get something for me, and I know she'll just love it.
Oct. 29th, 1994
Maman has sent my dress robes, and I must give this to her, she does have taste. The silvergrey satin is just lovely, and it fits me perfectly. She has also sent an enormous package of stuff for doing my hair and my face, but somehow I have a feeling I'm not really going to enjoy all this.
We are to deposit our luggage in front of the dormitories tomorrow after breakfast for the house elves to deal with, and after lunch, at exactly two o'clock, we are to assemble on the drive in front of the chateau. I wonder how we are going to travel. It can't be by floo, or we wouldn't have to be outside. Well, I'll know about that in not even twenty-for hours.
I'm quite nervous, now that things finally get going, after all it means almost eight months in a foreign country, but I'm not going to let my nervousness show. The mask of haughty arrogance has been useful before.
A/N: Ahhh – finally got the preliminaries done! Next chapter will start the story proper. Keep reviewing!
Nobody has had an idea yet about the names of those maisons de Beauxbatons, think about it, people!