Their apartment in the château was stunning. The style of the furniture was similar to that of the hotel at Avenue Carnot, but much more sumptuous. Hermione's room overlooked a sparkling river, which cascaded into spectacular rapids.

"So this is Beauxbatons," she sighed. She wondered if all the students here were academic snobs, given the entrance criteria. Pour Edouard didn't seem that way. Was Edouard a student here?

Glancing at her watch, she saw it was only ten o'clock, so she threw off her clothes to soak in the bathtub. The bathroom was all white, and contained a whirling pool made of marble. She opened the tap marked "lavende" and the delicious scent of lavender filled the room as her bubble bath filled up.

As she sunk into the tub, all her worries seemed to fade.

***

She must have fallen asleep, because the next thing she knew, the door to the bathroom was squeaking open. Shaking the cobwebs from her mind, she realised the water had gone cold. As she looked up, she saw Snape standing there, frowning at her.

Trying to act more dignified than she felt, she asked, "What do you want?"

"I just came to make sure you hadn't drowned yourself. I've been calling out to you for the last ten minutes," he said, sounding annoyed.

"Severus, you say the sweetest things. I'm so touched that you cared enough to wait ten whole minutes before storming in to save me! I'm sure I could have drowned a thousand times over in that time," she snapped back.

He scowled at her, then turned and stormed out the door muttering something like, 'should have just let her.'

"You've got about ten minutes till lunchtime," he called out to her.

She picked up the nearest sponge and flung it at his retreating form, missing his head narrowly. This caused him to pause. He picked up the sponge, then turned slowly, stalking back into the room. She blanched, not expecting this.

He walked right up to the edge of the tub, dropping the sponge into it as she tried her best to cover herself. The bubbles had all but vanished, and she felt vulnerable still sitting in the tub. His eyes lingered a bit longer than necessary on her legs, then travelled to her chest and finally settled on her face. In that time, his expression seemed to soften a bit. He reached over to the towel rack and handed her a large, fluffy white towel.

"Get dressed, we don't have all day," he said simply, turning to leave again.

"Like I said, you say the sweetest things…" she grumbled as she rose out of the tub and wrapped the towel around her. She stepped carefully out of the tub and dried herself off, moving towards her room when she felt him behind her.

"You've missed a spot," he spoke softly into her ear as he dabbed her shoulder with a hand towel. She held her breath.

Time for a little Gryffindor courage, she decided. She faced him, looking him straight in the eye.

"Why are you acting like this? I don't understand you…" she asked, losing her nerve somewhat as she saw how deeply he was examining her. As if he could read straight into her soul. Then she remembered that he could.

Fine. Let him read my thoughts, since I can't seem to put them into words. I've got nothing to hide, anyway. I can't get Harry into trouble, since Snape knows pretty much everything that I do. In fact, maybe Snape should have just had a good Legillimency session with me before he left for Paris. He could have absorbed all my Muggle knowledge, and I wouldn't have had to come on this stupid mission anyway…

"Does your mind always race about like this?" he said, in that soft, deep voice. His eyes seemed to be smiling a bit, but the smile had not reached his lips.

"Maybe," she defended.

"It is… charming," he said enigmatically.

"You haven't answered my question!" she said.

"No, you're quite right. I haven't." And with that, he left her to get dressed.

***

Beauxbatons' dining hall was all mirrors and crystal. Up on a low platform, the Head Table was laid out. It was done up with golden candelabras, fine porcelain and a white linen tablecloth. There were a few students sitting around lower tables, but term was over here, so Hermione assumed these stragglers would be leaving shortly.

The only other person at the Head Table was a thin, pale man with silver-grey hair and a little moustache. He rose to greet them, and motioned for them to sit beside him.

"Ah! Professeur Snape et Mademoiselle Granger, Madame Maxime asked me to keep you company," he spoke in a lilting voice with only the slightest accent. "I am Philibert de Blanac, the Assistant Headmaster here."

"Pleased to meet you, Professeur de Blanac," Snape shook his hand. Hermione took her turn after him.

"You speak beautiful English, Professor," she smiled at him.

He blushed slightly, but seemed extremely pleased. "Thank you, Mlle Granger. I spent one year in Aberystwyth at the University of Wales. It was part of my Dissertation work on magical archaeological remnants at Camelot."

"Oh, so you believe Camelot was truly in Wales, not Cornwall?" she asked him. They discussed various theories, and de Blanac told them of his findings while several page boys served a Vichyssoise soup for starters.

"Professor de Blanac, does Beauxbatons not have House Elves?" Hermione asked once they had moved on to the main course of venison. Part of her was hoping that they took a more enlightened view of things here, but in her heart, she doubted it.

De Blanac shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Well, it is a… particularity of Madame Maxime's that only humans should inhabit the castle." He said nothing more of the subject, but Hermione saw Snape's eyebrows rise at this.

"Professor, have you heard of the troubles with the floo network?" Snape asked.

"Indeed, it is most worrying. Madame Maxime has told me of Albus Dumbledore's information, and I am most disturbed that Igor Karkaroff has acted in this fashion. I felt certain that he was coming around to our way of seeing things…" he trailed off, glancing nervously at Hermione. It seemed to her that de Blanac had more to say about it, but didn't want to reveal anything in front of her. She felt insulted by this, but recognised that getting information was more important than her feelings.

She rose from her seat, saying: "you know, if you don't mind, I think I've eaten enough. I'd like to take a look at the library, if that's okay?"

Snape nodded at her in approval, and de Blanac tried to hide his relief. "I will get Edouard to show you the way," he offered as he motioned to the side of the room.

Little Edouard appeared and led Hermione out of the room. "Merci, Edouard," she said to him.

He turned to her wide-eyed. Then he smiled broadly and she saw that he had a missing tooth. Poor lad couldn't be more than eight years old, she thought to herself. Edouard took a circuitous route via the basement, popping into a swinging door while Hermione wondered where they were. He appeared a moment later carrying a plate stacked high with pastries. There were éclairs, mille-feuilles, and tiny fruit tarts. He thrust the plate at her with a smile.

"Mademoiselle did not get dessert, yes?"

"Oh thank you so much, Edouard!" she took the plate eagerly. She picked a large éclair off her plate and handed it to the boy. "This is for you, Edouard." He looked stunned, then shook his head, about to protest. "I would be very pleased if you would keep me company by eating with me," she added shrewdly.

Young Edouard was confused. He had been told to do anything required to make the guests comfortable. Hermione sat at a little bench on the side of the corridor, and refused to eat until he joined her. He sat with her hesitantly, and bit into the pastry. His face lit up in bliss.

"How long have you been at Beauxbatons, Edouard? Are you a student here?"

"Non, Mademoiselle. I am an orphan, and Madame Maxime took me in when my parents died. They were wizards, but I am not. How you say? I am…"

"A Squib?" she asked softly.

"Oui, a Squeeb."

Hermione frowned at this. "Are all the page boys Squibs, Edouard?"

"Oui Mademoiselle."

"Are there really so many of you, at such a young age?" she asked, unable to hide her amazement.

Edouard shifted in his seat, whispering back, "Le Grand Mage Noir a tué nos parents…"

Hermione was at sea for a moment. Grand Mage Noir? The great black sorcerer… Then it dawned on her. Voldemort.

"Voldemort killed your parents," she said aloud, more to herself than to Edouard. But he leapt from his seat, eyes wide with terror.

"Mademoiselle! You cannot say his name in these walls!" he glanced about with a wild look, as though Voldemort was about to appear that instant. "You will call him here!" he said urgently, grabbing her hand and running the rest of the way up the corridor. He turned left, and muttered a word that Hermione couldn't understand.

They found themselves instantly in Madame Maxime's office. She looked up from her books in alarm.

"Edouard! What is ze meaning of zis intrusion!" she said sharply.

Edouard stood panting, and gulped down air to catch his breath. "Madame! Madame! She said his name, she said it!" he looked up at Hermione nervously.

Madame Maxime glared at Hermione for a moment, then she said in a more soothing voice, "Edouard, laisse nous quelques instants. Leave us. I will protect the school, do not worry." Edouard shuffled out backwards, as if afraid that losing eye contact with his Headmistress would spell certain disaster. Then he turned abruptly and ran out of the room.

"Sit down, please, Mademoiselle Granger," she said wearily.

Hermione did as instructed, though she was very suspicious of the whole thing. What bogus story had Madame Maxime been feeding her students?

"You must understand, Beauxbatons is not as well protected as 'Ogwarts," she began. "Your school is isolated from cities, high in ze 'ills of Scotland. Ze founders of 'Ogwarts were wise to shelter it like zis. Our school, Beauxbatons, was founded during ze time of le Roi Soleil, Louis ze fourteenth. Our founder, Hector de Vaillancourt, had grand schemes zat ze school would rival Versailles in its grandeur. Well, he insisted it should be near Fontainebleau, near ze heart of France, close to Paris." Madame Maxime sighed deeply.

"It was a fatal mistake, one which we have paid for dearly, especially two decades ago during ze rise of Le Grand Mage Noir." She shuddered as she said it.

'She's not nearly as brave as Dumbledore,' Hermione noted with dismay. 'At least he is wise enough to use Voldemort's name. He knows that avoiding the name increases its power for terror.'

"At Beauxbatons, we do not say ze name. Ze students are taught zis at an early age. I must admit zat I have never contradicted ze rumours zat ze name could conjure le Mage Noir," she said, somewhat embarrassed.

"But that's terrible! You're perpetuating the fear and giving Voldemort more power by doing so!"

Maxime's eyes shot up at Hermione as she said his name.

"Do not presume to tell me how to run my school, Mademoiselle!"

She turned away from Hermione as she said curtly, "I will see you at dinner."

Hermione Granger knew a dismissal when she heard one, and let herself out without another word. She turned down the mirrored corridor and headed back towards the main staircase with its oversized chandelier.

She noted that the whole school was done up like Versailles, very regal, but a bit too museum-like for her taste. Everything had a refined, elegant look. But there was no humour to the place, and she even found herself missing Peeves. Where were all the ghosts? She hadn't seen a single one yet. 'They probably didn't pass the ghostly entrance exam,' she snickered to herself.

Her explorations led her to the Library, causing her eyes to light up. Pushing the door, she entered a gorgeous atrium, flooded in light. Off the atrium were various corridors.

"Litterature sorcière du 18e sciècle" read one of the signs, with an arrow pointing to the right.

"Potions et herbes magiques" led to a section with titles like, "Recettes des quatre coins du monde magique" and "La passion des potions." She rolled her eyes at that one. The last thing she needed was a book by someone who was passionate about potions. It made her think of Snape. What was he thinking? He had been so passionate last night, then this morning, something had changed. But why? It was giving her a headache, and she decided to take a mental holiday from any thoughts of him.

She hurried out of the Potions section to check out the Transfiguration books. Maybe she'd find some long lost text that Hogwarts didn't have.

***

Three hours in the library had turned up an interesting book on the history of Beauxbatons, but not much else. "Contes de Beauxbatons," was more like a series of tales than a true historical account, but its anecdotal style was rather engaging. Hermione found it particularly amusing to peruse the section on the adventures of three illustrious graduates named Athos, Porthos and Aramis. 'They can't be serious!' she thought to herself.

She flipped father ahead, and discovered that many characters from fiction seemed to figure in the book. She'd have to ask Professor de Blanac about this.

Upon returning to the apartment, she found Snape sitting in their common room with his nose in a book.

"What did you learn from Professor de Blanac?" she asked.

He looked up blankly. "What? Oh! De Blanac… it's… complicated." He looked away, frowning.

Hermione rolled her eyes and plonked herself down on the couch. "Well, fortunately for you, I've got an exceptionally keen mind which enjoys sorting 'complicated' things out. Fire away."

He looked back at her with an appraising look. He smiled thinly after a while. "Very well. De Blanac is a Death Eater."