The French version of this story can be found on Wattpad
La version française de cette histoire est disponible sur Wattpad

CHAPTER 3 - Bad manners

Professor Ronen was waiting for his students, looking perky as he sat at his desk with his legs swinging in a regular rhythm. He liked to surprise his students, but he also liked them to surprise him in return. In this respect, Miss Ferry's arrival in fifth year had been a great success, although he deplored the tragic events that had followed. He hoped that this year's new addition to the ranks would also bring its share of surprises, albeit less violent ones.

It wasn't long before the first young wizards crossed the threshold of his classroom to take their seats on their favourite bench. Miss Natsai Onai, undoubtedly her best pupil, and her direct rival, the now famous Miss Elisabeth Ferry. Then Messrs Amit Thakkar, Garreth Weasley and Leander Prewet, deep in conversation about Garreth's next experiment. The wizardry teacher was feeling sorry for his colleague in charge of potions: the young Weasley had been indulging in disastrous experiments for years, regularly exploding his cauldrons, and yet he had obtained an Optimal in his OWL, which obliged Mr Sharp to accept him in class until the end of his schooling. All the other teachers felt for the poor man, whose nerves were being sorely tested. A few students from Slytherin and Hufflepuff arrived at the same time - he noticed that the passing of Miss Poppy Sweeting made Amit blush - closely followed by the inseparable Sallow-Gaunt duo. But if the rumours in the corridors were to be believed (as well as the remarks of the other teachers) this great friendship had taken a bit of a beating since last spring.
A tender smile stretched the wizard's features. He knew how twisted and impactful young love could be. He was convinced that these young people would find a way of balancing a crush and a long-standing friendship.
Finally, Miss Samantha Dale made her entrance, closely followed by the long-awaited new pupil. Eyes followed her to her seat without her seeming to take any notice. She even allowed herself to smile at her teacher as if they had known each other for years. The surprises were already beginning!

Gabrielle felt so nervous that she felt like a swarm of billywigs was trying to escape from her stomach. She had woken up first, taken advantage of the empty bathroom to take a long, hot shower and was already ready and in uniform when the first Ravenclaws arrived in the common room looking sleepy. The very English breakfast had given her something to occupy her mind for a while, but it had taken all her acting skills to hide her impatience. She didn't want to be stared at sideways from the very first day, so it was better to adopt the tempo of the others to avoid being noticed.
Her seat in the spell class was high up in the second row, just behind two Slytherin uniforms who were exchanging discreet yet furious elbows. However, she didn't have time to wonder about this strange joust when she too was elbowed by her neighbour.
What the hell!
But Samantha had a good reason for opening hostilities: with an insistent air, she stared at the young girl, then at the figure just in front of her. Faced with Gabrielle's incomprehension, she repeated the operation before deciding to articulate "it's him". The French girl's eyes suddenly lit up and she stopped listening to the introduction Professor Ronen was reciting. She began to scrutinise the young man.

Ominis Gaut was tall, slender and much blonder than she had imagined. It was almost impossible to see his face, but she could tell he was pale. For someone deprived of his sight, he was dressed quite normally, without any carelessness, and his hair seemed to be neatly combed. She even wondered if he was really as blind as he was made out to be. Her eyes fell for a second on a mole on the back of his neck, barely visible through the collar of his shirt.

— So let's get off to a good start with a few practical points! Get out your chopsticks, please.

The general agitation drew the young woman from her contemplation and she hastened to follow the example of the others, hoping that no one would notice that the pink had risen to her cheeks.

One row down, Ominis took a long breath and frowned. The smell of cedarwood, although very faint, had never floated into the classroom until now. He assumed that his pen pal's wand was the source, as she was right behind him. This type of wood was not very common in the UK, cedars preferring a more Mediterranean climate. He mentally promised himself that he would go to the library to find out more, as a wand could tell you a lot about the wizard who wielded it.

His own morning had been less cheerful than Gabrielle's. The alarm clock had only brought the promise of a day of classes, which no normal student would be happy about, and when the memory of his future meeting with the Ravenclaw girl had come back to him, his mood had darkened even more. In truth, more than annoyance, it was a vague feeling of worry that knotted his stomach. He had never hesitated to make his opinion known and to stand his ground in a confrontation, but he didn't appreciate having to deal with conflict when he could avoid it. He was convinced that this girl would be a source of conflict. His parents had chosen her, and that had to be a bad sign.

The lesson continued without any notable events. On several occasions, he overheard whispers sprinkled with a strong accent, which he might have found charming in anyone else but which, in her case, only irritated him for no particular reason. Her pronunciation of spells was exotic, to say the least. He also noticed that when she spoke aloud, she took care to articulate better to avoid forking.
Mentally, he ran through a dozen conversation scenarios, each more catastrophic than the last. His imagination didn't seem capable of finding the slightest positive outcome to their meeting and by the time the end of the lesson came around, he had convinced himself that, no matter what he did, everything would go wrong. His only hope was that she was too busy talking to pay any attention to him. And he almost believed in his lucky stars when he was able to leave the classroom without anyone stopping him.

— E-excuse me, Ominis Gaunt?

He froze like a fox flushed out by hounds.
The girl caught up with him in a few strides and faced him for the first time. She was smiling, although he couldn't see it.

— Is that you, Ominis Gaunt? Let me introduce myself: I'm Gabrielle de Lauzanne, your pen pal.

— Ah yes, the little French girl... What's wrong?

The nonchalant coldness of his voice took the Ravenclaw by surprise, and she opened her mouth to reply, only to close it again immediately. How was she to take this icy welcome? Had she broken a rule of politeness? Disconcerted, she resumed with a little less aplomb:

— Well, I thought we could get to know each other since we're supposed to be pen pals. We haven't had a chance to talk since our families decided on this arrangement.

— I know your name, you know mine, so I'm not sure what more we can say to each other that can't wait until we've finished lessons. Unless you want to make a dramatic entrance in front of Professor Sharp and make us both late?

— N-No! I just wanted to...

— So hurry up. Being the new student won't protect you from a detention if you're late for Potions," he cut her off rudely before turning on his heels and striding away.

The sound of footsteps behind his back quickly echoed his own. Sebastian and Elisabeth seemed to have mysteriously disappeared, leaving him alone to guide the young girl he had just reduced to an awkward silence. An uncomfortable situation that his mind hadn't considered among the long list he'd imagined. At least he didn't hear any sobbing, which meant that he hadn't been rude enough to make her cry.

No, he hadn't made Gabrielle cry, but she felt close to breaking down. Who did he think he was, telling her off like that? She had been kind, polite and friendly, yet all she had received was an annoyed expression and a remark about her punctuality. What nerve! Of all the things she had heard about Gaunt's son so far, no one had ever mentioned such a blatant lack of manners. Nevertheless, she simply took a deep breath and followed him. A girl from a good family had to control her moods and not give in to emotional outbursts.

The young wizard held his wand in front of him, the latter emitting a faint pulse of light at regular intervals. He navigated the corridors with ease, neither stumbling nor hesitating. The fluidity of his movements so astonished his companion that she forgot, for a moment, the anger that had been building up in her. After crossing a stone footbridge between two towers, she ventured to ask him a question:

— Do you use your wand to find your way?

— No, I use it as a decoy. It attracts stupid questions so that I can avoid the people who ask them. I wonder why it's been shining so brightly all this time?

To his credit, he had a certain ingenuity when it came to scathing retorts. His neutral expression hadn't twitched for a second, while the young French girl's went from bewilderment to frustration. Had she heard correctly? No one had ever had the audacity to be so blatantly rude to her and yet she could boast of knowing quite a few pretentious people. Vexed and furious at being treated like that, she abandoned all notion of temperance.

— May His Excellency forgive my ignorance," she replied tartly. Shall we talk about the remarkable architecture of this school? The taste with which it was decorated? Or perhaps the landscapes that surround it? After all, you seem perfectly capable of forming a first opinion about your surroundings without even having to look at them.

Gabrielle stomped angrily past the Slytherin, feeling the urgent need to distance herself before the situation got any worse. She wasn't particularly proud of having attacked him about his disability, unfortunately anger often loosened her tongue at the same time as it clouded her mind. Taking refuge at the back of the potion class saved her from a second confrontation, but also gave her plenty of time to replay the scene in her head and regret her words. If the red was clinging to her cheeks, it was now out of shame.

— What's up? asked Samantha as they opened their manuals to tackle the first preparation. What did you talk about?

— My stupidity and his poor eyesight.

The Ravenclaw looked surprised, but understood that there was no point in asking any more questions. All she had to do was look at the scowls on the faces of her two classmates to understand that their exchange had been prickly.

When lunchtime arrived, Gabrielle was among the first to go out and she spent the rest of the day with the students in her house, systematically diverting the subject when the conversation turned to her introductions to Ominis.