CHAPTER 26: FIRST STEPS AND FIRST PROBLEMS
Without warning, and to Daphne's surprise, the carriage suddenly descended towards solid ground, leaving them just enough time to securely grasp the seats in the compartment. A spell previously placed in the cabin spared them the inconvenience of witnessing the numerous decorative objects and the few bags they brought with them turn into actual missiles made dangerous by the dizzying speed of the car propelling towards the ground. However, nothing was put in place to spare them the unpleasant sensation that all their organs had just moved to the top of their bodies after the fall. From the corner of her eye, Daphne could see Lucie clinging to her seat as if her survival depended on it, eyes closed so tightly that wrinkles appeared all around. Meanwhile, Tracey kept muttering, "We're going to crash!" while nervously scanning the landscape approaching dangerously beyond their window. Daphne herself was not at all reassured; the urge to lose her lunch constantly tormented her. The small voice in her head, probably her conscience, whispering that it was likely normal, did little to calm her anxieties.
It was at the moment when she thought the impact with the ground was imminent and the temptation to close her eyes also arose that she noticed the sudden slowing down of the carriage and its stabilization in the air just a few meters above a wide forest path illuminated by multiple lanterns. The impact finally made itself known a few seconds later, but it was much less violent than she expected: There was virtually no difference between this and the impact caused by an unfortunate wheel venturing onto a rock in the middle of the road. Nevertheless, Daphne couldn't help but sigh in relief as her eyes landed on the calm forest visible just a few meters from her position while their car began the slow ascent of the path towards their school.
"W-what an idea to give us such a fr-fright!" stammered Tracey, trying to overcome the tremor in her voice. "R-remind me to mention it to the headmistress if I ever happen to be alone with her for a few minutes..."
"Is it over?" inquired Lucie, persistently keeping her eyes closed.
"I think the worst is over if that's what you want to know," Daphne reassured her in a calming tone.
Lucie finally consented to open her eyelids, and just like her companion before, the moment she cast her gaze on the landscape beyond her window, she expressed her relief with a deep sigh.
"Goodness gracious..." she murmured, shaking her head. "I don't know if we'll encounter similar adventures, but I hope not."
"I hope so too!" agreed Tracey, nervously laughing. "I... I'd rather face Sister Catherine's wrath for my lack of seriousness in studies than relive such an ordeal!"
Her laughter quickly became contagious, and although the three of them started laughing heartily a few moments later, it was primarily to relieve the lingering tension within them. The desired effect was achieved, and the rest of their adventure unfolded in a light-hearted atmosphere, far from the fear generated by the incredible descent they had made through the air. The carriage finally came to a stop after what seemed surprisingly long, right in front of the imposing entrance gate of Beauxbâtons, in the middle of the path, as they could see dozens of students already streaming into the courtyard. The sun was slowly setting, but its rays still illuminated the reddish bricks of the school's enclosing wall. The ground, beaten by horse hooves and dozens of small shoes, soon raised a cloud of dust that obscured their view, and the first shadows of the tall beech trees covering the entire mount and surrounding the castle gave an eerie appearance to the place. Darkness was almost total under their foliage, and small high-pitched sounds resembling owl hoots added to the oppressive atmosphere of the place.
"We... We should get out... I think," stammered Lucie, nervously looking at the forest.
"Yeah," mumbled Tracey, also uneasy. "Should we take our luggage?"
"I don't think so," replied Daphné, absentmindedly watching the students rushing to the school's entrance. "None of them seem to care, so I think it's better to leave them here."
The other two nodded, and after one last exchanged glance, they finally decided to leave their compartment. The rest of the carriage seemed to have already been emptied of its occupants, and in each compartment they passed, no female presence was found. The front door was already open, a sign that all the other girls had already left, which was also their case a few seconds later. Tracey, who was at the rear, barely had time to place both feet on the dry ground of the forest path when the carriage moved again and set off along another path apparently circling the fortress. All three watched it depart, then not knowing what else to do, they decided to follow the column of students walking beside them in a noise that could wake all the nocturnal creatures on the small mount where the school was built.
Soon, their eyes lingered again on the entrance of the school, much more intimidating than when they were in their carriage. Before them was a large gate completing a drawbridge currently lowered, and its iron chains, swept by small gusts of wind, produced particularly sinister clinking at this time of day. A first wall of orange bricks, resembling a rampart, extended across a short tunnel and was topped with multiple battlements and towers with arrow slits, giving the building a very medieval appearance. However, thanks to Renaissance architecture, the once imposing and intimidating structure had become much more welcoming and pleasing to the eye, everything one would expect from a school meant to accommodate young girls. The inner courtyard was entirely paved, and a small lodge, probably intended for the guardian of this castle, had been set up on the left of the entrance in what seemed to be the castle's old armory. The courtyard was very clean but empty, and a few doors scattered around to climb the stairs leading to the crenellations and small towers gave it a semblance of life. At the back, a broad staircase with about ten steps provided access to another large arch allowing entry to a second courtyard whose entrance could be forbidden by a heavy, currently elevated gate. Like the previous one, this second courtyard was entirely surrounded by another wall, an extension of the first, but it was higher and lacked turrets. More spaces had been arranged at this level, but their purpose escaped Daphné for the moment as she had little time to focus on them before being swept away by the crowd of students towards the third level of the school.
This part, also accessible from a staircase even higher than the other and delimited again by curtains, was nevertheless vast and wide, revealing for the first time vegetation and ornaments that were previously nonexistent. Punctuated by multiple cleverly laid out paths, lovely little English gardens perfectly trimmed and composed of numerous groves, bushes, and a few trees adorned with beautiful flowers, decorated with charming marble sculptures and a central fountain where water flowed forming arcs and loops, this place was in the eyes of Daphné and most girls her age the most beautiful of all they had seen so far. The imposing wall at the back, behind which all the main buildings of the school were located, gave even more of a magical impression to the whole scene.
It was in that direction that the file of older students headed, and while strolling among the flowerbeds of the gardens, the younger ones took the opportunity to admire even more the picturesque setting that Beauxbâtons offered to the point of marveling at the elegant chandeliers lighting the area, the white wooden benches on which most new students already imagined themselves studying to enjoy the surrounding landscape, or even the small glowing spheres that occasionally passed over their heads, intriguing more than one.
"Fairy lights," Tracey murmured next to her, watching one of them.
"Do they really exist?" Lucie wondered, also looking bewildered at what she initially took for mere fireflies.
"I remind you that you didn't believe in the existence of magic or this school just a few months ago, so why couldn't fairies exist too?" Tracey remarked.
"You're right," she replied, looking somewhat sheepish. "But... does that mean the Beast of Gevaudan also exists?" she added with a suddenly frightened tone.
"What is it?" Daphné asked, looking at her curiously.
"It's... It's a creature that would resemble a wolf, maybe even a werewolf, and it would wreak havoc in what was once called the Dauphiné province," she said nervously. "Terrible things are said about this creature, that it is responsible for several dozen deaths and attacks all unfortunate travelers lost in the forest... Cases of attacks have even been reported in this region, and the frequency of these attacks was so great that the king himself reportedly sent troops to eliminate the beast..."
"A nice little local story, no doubt," argued Daphné, not giving much consideration to her words. "You'll soon realize that creatures far worse than this curious beast exist all over the world, but Beauxbâtons is here to teach you how to best protect yourself from them."
Far from reassured, Lucie preferred to trust her new friend. If fear still gripped her, she reconsidered the danger of the Beast of Gevaudan compared to what she already knew about magic. If trolls, vampires, werewolves, and giants existed, then in comparison, this wild wolf probably didn't stand a chance. Nevertheless, she took the time to scold herself internally for her lack of diligence in her new lessons and promised herself to open her magical creatures manual tonight. Her knowledge in this area was nonexistent, and next to Daphné and Tracey, she felt out of place, like an unwanted element in a perfect setting. This feeling, however, faded when they reached another staircase following the shape of the wall, surrounding the last plateau on which the school buildings were located. The excitement of finally laying eyes on their classrooms, the dining hall, or their dormitory made them forget the exhaustion that was overtaking them, and they quickly reached their destination, enjoying the spectacle that unfolded before them.
The castle was very beautiful, gleaming almost white in the light. An observant eye could clearly discern the different construction stages of the school by closely analyzing the ornaments and materials used in its design. All eras seemed to have gathered in this imposing building, with the medieval seamlessly blending into the Renaissance sculptures, columns, and pedimented dormer windows. The mixture of stone and brick typical of the 16th century or the rococo and floral ornaments of the windows characteristic of Louis XV's reign all contributed to the school's splendid appearance. This blending of eras wonderfully enhanced the school, giving it a warm and welcoming feel rather than the cold and almost antique look that suited Hogwarts so well. Surrounding the entire width of a large paved courtyard in the center of which was a fountain with small cherubs, the school was also very tall, and multiple towers with slate roofs seemed to culminate at gargantuan heights. Above the entrance itself, located at the top of a marble staircase, was also a richly decorated balcony that clearly served the headmistress during grand occasions. The different floors of the school were not yet visible from the entrance, and heavy curtains of a beautiful reddish color did not allow the content of the ground floor rooms to be seen either. However, no one cared; all were too busy admiring the beauty of the place for the younger ones or joyfully chatting for the older ones.
Daphné quickly noticed a detail that contrasted with the school: the stern-looking woman standing at the foot of the staircase. Wearing a long black dress that hugged her body and a pointed hat straight as a rocky peak, she also had a face with harsh features that bitterly reminded her of Sister Catherine. Perhaps they were sisters? Nothing could confirm it, but from afar, it was easy to imagine them having some kind of family connection. This woman had something extra, a certain form of grace and majesty in her simple posture. With a perfectly straight body, a slightly lifted chin, and hands clasped in front of her, it was clear that this woman knew the rules of etiquette to perfection. Her strict appearance was, in any case, very intimidating, and she barely needed to raise her voice to impose silence on the approaching students.
"First years, step forward in front of me and let your older classmates pass," she ordered them with a stern tone, scanning the dense crowd gathering in front of her.
They didn't need to be told twice, and in no time, a group of little girls the same age as Daphné formed near her, while a line of older students let themselves be led towards the school entrance. In passing, most of them addressed the mysterious woman with a very polite "Good evening, Madame Beaumont" or "Good evening, Professor," accompanied by a graceful nod of the head. Professor Beaumont, however, responded very rarely to these marks of respect; she barely nodded her head slightly at some girls, looking at them very quickly. Her gaze mostly remained concentrated on the new girls in front of her, new girls who, faced with the severity emanating from her and the cold eyes continually fixed on their group, tried to be as discreet and small as possible. It was only when the older students had all entered the school that Professor Beaumont spoke again, her voice as sharp as a razor blade.
"Good evening and welcome, all of you, to Beauxbâtons," she said, surveying her new students. "I am Professor Beaumont, deputy headmistress of this school and responsible for teaching you the basic fundamentals of spell assimilation and the rules governing what is called Etiquette for the next seven years. As is customary in these places, I am personally affiliated with your welcome to this establishment as well as the delivery of the first important points that you will all need to know if you wish to continue your education with us."
The silence was total, and every young lady literally drank in the words of their professor without even daring to move a finger for fear of upsetting her. The stage was set, and in just a few words, Professor Beaumont managed to convey to all the students one essential thing: This woman was certainly not someone to be crossed.
"The origins of this school are relatively recent in terms of time, barely more than a century, to be honest, but the demands and the quality of work required are nonetheless as important and crucial as in any other magical institution in this world," she continued, walking slowly in front of them, hands clasped behind her back. "At its creation, its founders wanted to make the young witches of this beautiful country the most educated and trained of their time, those who had never had the opportunity to develop their powers within a specialized institute for such things. The delay we had until then compared to institutions like Hogwarts in Great Britain was considerable, but through self-denial, patience, and courage, we can now boast of being the best magical school open to young witches, on the entire European continent."
Madame Beaumont paused again, allowing her words to sink in and strike the conscience of her students.
"If Beauxbâtons has achieved such results, it was not only through the generous assistance of multiple patrons who bestowed their generosity and knowledge upon our school for its proper development but also thanks to its students. Due to impeccable behavior and a manifest desire to succeed, most of them have become accomplished and respected women valued for their worth in both the magical and Muggle worlds. This is evidence of the positive outcomes of the teachings provided at our institution."
Daphné couldn't help but agree with Madame Beaumont's statements, although she strongly doubted her ability to one day secure a position in any magical institute, even with good results. Many women, once students at Beauxbâtons, now excelled in various fields, be it politics, science, or literature. They didn't hesitate to constantly remind those who inquired about their success that they owed it all to this school. The French Ministry of Magic, for example, unlike its English counterpart, was not reluctant to hire women for positions that needed to be filled. Despite its very recent creation— the Ministry of Magic being just over a hundred years old— it stood out for the modernity of its institutions and its advances in social and civic domains. Women enjoyed more privileges than English witches, and some departments of the ministry were even led by women, without shocking the male magical community in France. However, this aspect was much less pronounced in the Muggle world, proving that wizards aspired much more to progress in the rights between men and women. Nevertheless, there were still many opponents, and some fields like justice or national security were reserved for men, arguing that a woman could not know anything about the ancient art traditionally assigned to men: war. The future might prove them wrong; at least, that's what Daphné supposed.
"Effort in your studies, attendance in class, seriousness in your assignments, and the aspiration to personal success will allow you to easily pass the seven required years before obtaining your final diploma. A diploma that will reward your hard work and the fruits of your determination to never fail in your goal, which is to become accomplished and qualified witches. Laziness, disrespectful and deleterious behavior, a slackening in your work, and reluctance to do what is expected of you will only lead you to one possible outcome: expulsion from this school, and permanently. Therefore, needless to say that any young lady who has not passed her end-of-year exams due to failing to meet the passing grade will be asked not to show her face within these walls anymore. Failure is not tolerated at Beauxbâtons, and students not assimilating this rule have no place in this institution."
The tone was set, and those who still hoped to spend the next seven years at Beauxbâtons peacefully could only reconsider their ambitions.
"One last point before leading you to the grand buffet of this new school year: Regarding your behavior, simply know that any attitude not corresponding to what is expected from you will result in disciplinary sanctions, whether physical or not. So, don't be surprised by the drastic measures taken to avoid a recurrence of any deviance that might appear in your behavior. We are here to perfect the education that was yours until this evening, not to contain the impetuosity that characterizes you. Be certain that we will not let anything pass, and strong-headed individuals often end up... falling in line."
Next to Daphné, Tracey suddenly gulped, and upon reflection, her friend thought it was justified. Gifted with an impetuous character and a tendency to never set limits on her behavior, Tracey fully fell into the category named by Madame Beaumont, and hearing that she risked corporal punishment for it was a perspective she had never imagined until now. Perhaps it would help her finally adopt a wiser attitude? Daphné hoped so, and this thought bothered her so much that she didn't realize she had resumed walking and entered what seemed to be the entrance hall of the school until she collided head-on with the girl in front of her when she stopped.
"Please wait here for a few moments," their teacher requested in the same severe tone. "Madame Maxime and your older classmates must be informed of your imminent entry among them. I hope you will also take the time offered to you to check your attire one last time."
Her gaze lingered on some girls, especially on a small blonde just in front of her whose hat was poorly positioned and seemed about to fall off. The girl blushed immediately under Madame Beaumont's piercing gaze, but their teacher didn't wait for her to correct her mistake before heading towards a double door to their right, behind which Daphné could easily hear the noise caused by hundreds of conversations... that fell silent as soon as the deputy headmistress pushed a powerful and firm "SILENCE!" that immediately had the desired effect.
"We won't be messing around with her," Tracey whispered, chuckling.
"She's terrifying," Lucie confirmed, anxiously looking at the door.
"We have a carbon copy of Lamballe," Daphné assured her, shuddering at the mere thought of Sister Catherine. "If you've known one, then you know them all, and you know how these women operate."
"And you also know how to avoid attracting the wrath of these same women," Daphné reminded her, also in a tone full of implications that Tracey quickly understood.
With nothing better to do, the three of them chose to admire the room they were in, ignoring the fearful and anxious comments of the girls around them. The room was spacious, enough to probably accommodate all the students if they managed to squeeze in. A beautiful pattern of black and white tiles arranged symmetrically lay beneath their feet, and the raw stone walls were dazzlingly white. Square in shape, this hall had four double doors on each of its sides above which beautiful sculptures in an ancient style had been carved. The one leading to the dining hall seemed to represent a meal attended by Greek deities, and Harry's fiancée suppressed the urge to blush when she noticed that in the midst of this banquet, the artist had depicted the God Apollo eating alongside the nymph... Daphné. The one facing the entrance door represented Athena, the goddess of war, artisans, but above all, wisdom and schoolmasters, teaching her knowledge to a compact crowd of men.
"The themes are well chosen," argued Daphné, scanning the rest of the artwork in the room.
However, one detail piqued her curiosity when her gaze landed on colossal-sized paintings. Numbering two and facing each other, they were so large that each covered almost half of the wall on which it was placed. The first, hanging facing the door leading to Beauxbâtons' Great Hall, depicted a middle-aged man wearing a long, brown, curly wig cascading down his shoulders and back. He donned a heavy ermine coat embroidered with golden fleurs-de-lis on a bluish background that reached down to his feet. The legs, covered in a sheer white stocking and ending in red-heeled shoes, were deliberately exposed, as well as the sword hanging at his hip. The Grand Master's collar of the Order of the Holy Spirit, the scepter held in his right hand, and the crown placed on a small stool next to the man indicated that he was of royal blood, if he wasn't simply a king. Most of the girls paid little attention to this completely immobile painting. Still, Daphné, accustomed over time to mingling with the high nobility of France, found this canvas particularly fascinating to detail.
"Who is this?" Lucie asked beside her, also curiously looking at the portrait.
"Louis XIV, King of France until 1715 and founder of this school," she replied vaguely before turning to the other painting. "If I'm not mistaken, this one represents his mistress, the Marquise de Maintenon, who is said to be the originator of the creation of Beauxbâtons," she said, looking at the beautiful woman painted in the frame above the entrance to the dining hall.
Although 59 years old at the time her portrait was painted, the marquise still retained all the freshness of her youth. One would genuinely need to have a critical sense of beauty or simply be in bad faith to confirm her true age in this painting. Clad in a long caramel-colored dress under a light midnight blue fur coat, the marquise also wore a thin almost transparent veil over her carefully combed brown hair. In her left hand, the artist had chosen to represent the very first book of Beauxbâtons' foundations, a small leather-bound book intended to regulate the life of the school and all its students entirely. Her other hand touching her chest at heart level testified to the marquise's interest and attachment to the project that was "close to her heart." Although never the headmistress of Beauxbâtons because she was a Muggle, she kept a strong attachment to this institution until her death. She ardently wished to develop and administer it, not hesitating to intervene in the school's affairs to direct the organization of successive school years that she would witness until the end of her life.
"I learned all of this from 'Beauxbâtons, une histoire,' which we were recommended to read before coming here," she explained when she recounted this story in detail to Lucie. "However, I think I might be the only one here who took the trouble to leaf through its pages, unlike Tracey, who found it particularly useful to use her copy to fuel the fireplace in our reception room..."
"I was cold, and there were no logs around!" she justified, looking upset. "And besides, unlike you, I didn't have this taste for reading, may Merlin keep me from it!"
"I can barely read," Lucie declared in a worried tone. "I don't think I could have finished that book before the school year, even with a lot of willpower, and to be honest with you, I don't like reading much either..."
"Then I think you and I will become very good friends," affirmed Tracey, putting her arm around her shoulders. "We'll just leave this tedious task to 'Miss I find pleasure in spending hours with my nose in a book' so that she can help us with the homework the teachers will give us..."
A stern look from Daphné assured her otherwise, and the joyful smile she had worn until then melted away like snow in the sun, giving way to a sullen expression.
"Madame Beaumont was very clear in her speech: Beauxbâtons School is very demanding in the academic work performed by its students, and a failure in this duty is equivalent to immediate expulsion from this institution. It would be a shame to come to such an eventuality by letting ourselves go to laziness! I will help you with your homework but will let you do most of the work yourselves, is that clear to you?"
Two affirmative nods immediately answered her, but Daphné didn't have time to scold them further as the doors to the Great Hall opened again, revealing their Charms professor a few moments later. Madame Beaumont quickly surveyed them all, and after she had administered some last-minute recommendations or customary advice to certain girls, she ordered them to follow her to take their first steps into what would be, for some of them, their dining hall for the next seven years. Daphné, Tracey, and Lucie looked at each other, then after a collective sigh, they joined the small crowd streaming through the two door panels, each holding hands to give themselves courage.
The place was magnificent. Like the rest of the school, white was the predominant color in Beauxbâtons' architectural composition, but the azure blue, the distinctive color of the school crest, was not to be outdone. It almost exclusively composed the multiple hangings fixed to the walls on each side of the tall windows that extended along the entire length of the lateral sides to the entrance door. On the shiny paved floor had been sculpted and painted the school's standard, but the view was partially obstructed by the seven rows of tables. Six of them were already occupied, and as before at the entrance of the school, the already seated students once again began to assess each of the girls from head to toe, offering their curious gaze.
The roof, on the other hand, was nothing special and did not reveal the starry sky above their heads as Hogwarts did. However, with its multiple beautifully sculpted arches and ribs, it had nothing to envy its English counterpart. It gave the room the impression of being in the heart of a church nave, a feeling heightened by the multiple candles and candlesticks floating tranquilly a few meters above the ground. It would have taken the girls even longer to thoroughly detail this long room, but even ten pairs of additional eyes could not have taken in all the decorative elements of Beauxbâtons' Great Hall. Between the stone sculptures and the tapestries from the Gobelins workshops fixed to the walls, the stained glass windows depicting magical and religious scenes, and the magnificent silver tableware, anyone would have wished to be able to clone themselves to admire the treasures that filled this room.
It took some time for the eighth table, the teachers' table, to capture their attention. Perpendicular to the others and located at the other end of the entrance, only about ten seats completed it, and all but one were already occupied by the teaching staff. Most were scrutinizing the new blond heads they would be responsible for this year. However, two of them, located in the center of the table, were engrossed in an animated conversation. Their discussion might have gone unnoticed if it weren't for one of the few sources of noise in the hall, and if one of the two protagonists didn't immediately draw attention to herself with her physique. Indeed, it was challenging to overlook the astonishing Madame Maxime, the headmistress of Beauxbâtons, when focusing on her appearance. There was little chance of encountering a woman like her in the street.
The first characteristic that struck one about this woman was undoubtedly her height: the headmistress was very likely the tallest person one could meet in their lifetime, and, in comparison, the professors standing next to her only reached her shoulders. Nevertheless, despite her height, Madame Maxime retained a certain grace and flexibility in each of her movements, giving the impression that she caressed the surrounding air with her fingertips. Her voice, which one might think was deep and heavy due to her height, was as soft and clear as a nightingale's song. Engaged in a deep conversation with her neighbor, an old witch who seemed to be shrinking into herself, she didn't notice the curious faces of the new little students turned towards her unless she pretended not to be interested. This allowed the new students to study her in even more detail. The headmistress had an olive complexion highlighting her deep, large black eyes, while her sweet mouth revealed a perfect row of straight, white teeth behind her smile. Her brown hair was tied back in a complicated manner, but not a single unruly strand could be seen. It was challenging to determine her age because time seemed not to have marked her skin, but the wisdom emanating from her, the presence, and the poise in the aura that emanated from her body suggested that she must be of a relatively advanced age.
Having already spoken to her, Daphné knew that this woman was of a benevolent nature and behaved like a mother toward her charges when it came to their well-being. Still, her character changed completely when a subject upset her or when someone dared to oppose her.
Also, there was one topic that absolutely had to be avoided in all conversations that might take place with her: the giant blood flowing in her veins. Madame Maxime was indeed the result of the astonishing union of a giantess and a wizard, or perhaps it was the other way around. Luckily, she had inherited only the giant creature's immense height and her fiery character when pushed to her limits. Despite her attempts to hide her lineage by claiming to be a woman who had experienced a strong growth spurt, few people were fooled. Her appointment as the headmistress of Beauxbâtons was an opportunity for some to doubt the relevance of this decision, arguing, as English purists did when it came to a Muggle-born, that a magical school could not be run by a "hybrid."
The brilliant results obtained by the young girls of Beauxbâtons in their exams following her arrival at this position quickly convinced them otherwise. Madame Maxime's demand, firmness, but also the touch of humanism she showed, made the school one of the most successful in Europe. The alliance between magic, the subjects also learned by Muggles, and practical teachings that formed her students into perfect women of the world prompted many European families to enroll their daughters, thus giving Beauxbâtons the international aura it did not yet possess.
"It's strange how tall she is," murmured a girl near Daphné to her friend while looking, like all the others, at the headmistress. "Is she sitting on a stack of cushions?"
Daphné struggled to suppress a laugh at this remark, but it was true that towering over her colleagues by more than a meter was quite surprising. Fate then played them a funny trick because following this girl's comment, Madame Maxime suddenly stood up from her chair, causing her to gasp in astonishment. The table, which was relatively high, now barely reached her waist, and she only needed to stretch her arm to reach the first candles floating above her. However, the headmistress remained perfectly upright, her eyes simply following the new students as they began to take their places in front of the chairs, just like their older peers. None dared to anticipate the upcoming order by sitting down, but they kept their heads turned towards the teachers' table, waiting for a sign indicating the procedure to follow. The silence, which was already heavy before they took their seats in the hall, became even more oppressive when the last student positioned herself in front of her chair, her eyes fixed on the immense silhouette of the headmistress. Madame Maxime's stature must have intrigued more than one, but each refrained from expressing their thoughts out loud. Even Tracey, who generally didn't hold back her words, did not make any comments, and only a fleeting glance at Lucie was the only evidence of her amazement at such a spectacle. The headmistress, for her part, scrutinized the dozens of small faces in front of her with her piercing eyes, a gentle smile on her face. Having all these young witches eager for knowledge in front of her must have been a pleasant sight for her, and Daphné, sitting at the end of the table with her two friends, could easily read the emotions crossing her face. It was only when she was sure that no sound would disturb her that Madame Maxime finally spoke, her hands clasped in front of her, idly playing with her wand:
"You may sit, but without dragging your chairs," she said kindly, scanning the seven tables in front of hers.
As soon as she spoke, it was done, but the last part of her sentence was least respected by the first-year students; It would probably take some time before they managed to accomplish this task without too many problems and achieve the same result as their older peers. But the headmistress did not hold it against them, perhaps in a desire to show a bit of indulgence on their first evening in her presence. It was only when the silence became complete again that she spoke again, casting a final warning glance at the poor unfortunate soul who had the bad idea of murmuring something to her neighbor:
"Ladies, allow me to welcome you to Beauxbâtons and welcome back to our older students," she began, looking alternately at the table of new students and the others. "Before we focus on the feast marking the beginning of this new school year, I would like to introduce you to the new Potions professor who will complete the teaching staff of this school, Miss Duvin."
A young woman sitting at the end of the table then stood up and was quickly joined by all her colleagues and the students who all applauded her. Daphné then noticed a detail that had so far escaped her and had not been mentioned in her school textbooks: all the teachers were women. What could be more normal after all for a girls' school? Tall, short, thin, well-built, beautiful, less beautiful... They all had diverse and varied appearances, but Daphné judged that this only added to Beauxbâtons that touch of originality that was sorely lacking at Hogwarts.
"Now that the introductions are done, I'll let you enjoy the delicious food so wonderfully prepared by our chefs," Madame Maxime continued once everyone was seated again. "I know full well that an empty stomach is not advisable if you want to listen to the words of an old lady. So, I will wait for you to satisfy your hunger before taking a few more minutes of your time for the last customary recommendations. Bon appétit!"
Hardly had her speech ended when the dishes were immediately filled with the most appetizing victuals. Some students looked at certain foods with a forbidden air, sometimes lingering on simple tomatoes that until recently served exclusively as ornamental plants in French households. Others were completely unknown to them, so they preferred not to touch them and instead turned to more traditional dishes such as potatoes or roast pork, which was a great success among students from humble backgrounds. Each dish was accompanied by a small label mentioning its name, but the fear of the unknown perhaps meant that, in the end, many of them were simply ignored. Daphné took the others by surprise by immediately serving herself in the most refined dishes, and her plate was quickly loaded with the finest and most delicate dishes one could find: foie gras, truffles, crayfish, oysters, morels, sweetbreads, crests, and rooster kidneys, salpicon, or even young rabbits with fine herbs... Daphné would have almost salivated in envy if she hadn't long ago considered such behavior irreverent. Making a good face, she simply took a little from each dish to honor the school's chefs, an attitude quickly followed by Tracey, who, on the other hand, served herself generous portions without thinking that, for now, these were only appetizers.
"By Merlin, it's almost as good as what the house-elves cook for us!" she exclaimed between bites.
"Don't talk with your mouth full!" Daphné immediately scolded her before realizing that she herself had just indulged in it. "Oh sweet Jesus..."
Shaking her head, Daphné then noticed that Lucie had not yet started eating, and in fact, she had not even dared to touch the dishes in front of her. On the contrary, she patiently watched the girls around her as if she were waiting for a sign, an indication perhaps telling her that she could join the feast. Her hands remained patiently still and rested on her thighs, and her eyes, fully focused on the piece of meat that one of the students was about to eat, could hardly conceal the obvious desire she had to taste it as well.
"Aren't you eating?" Daphné asked, noticing her behavior.
"Do you allow me to eat at the same time as you?" she replied with an inquisitive air. "Isn't there a hierarchy in the order of people who eat at the table? I wouldn't want to appear impolite by breaking any rules about it..."
"How naive you can be," Tracey laughed, looking at her with a sorry expression. "Here, no one will judge you based on your status; we are all equal!"
"That's actually one of Beauxbâtons' rules," Daphné added, filling her friend's plate. "Leave behind your titles and ignore your fellow student's origins to ensure excellent cohesion among all of us. It's true that some do not respect this rule, and advantages remain available to the wealthiest students, but you can be sure that we will never reproach you for being of a lower condition than ours."
Rassured by these words, Lucie finally lost any apprehension about the course of the meal... until she set her eyes on the cutlery. Three plates and a small bowl were stacked on top of each other, while on each side, a multitude of forks, knives, and spoons arranged in a precise order completed the table setting. All made of silver, the cutlery probably cost as much as her parents' house, and eating with silverware left her undecided about what to do: stop marveling at what she had in front of her or imagine all the possibilities that the value of these utensils could offer her... The choice was difficult.
"Are you planning to eat tonight, or do you prefer to admire your reflection on these cutlery for another hour?" Tracey asked jokingly.
"E-excuse me," she stammered, blushing before focusing on the contents of her bowl. "Wh-which... which spoon should I use?"
"Oh, right, you're not used to these things yet," Daphné remarked without taking her eyes off her own plate. "You have to start from the outside and work your way towards the plate to accompany the different dishes that will follow tonight. For now, as we only have appetizers and broths, you should start with the ones farthest from your plates."
"Beauxbâtons will teach you everything you need to know about this in the Etiquette classes we'll have to attend," added Tracey, watching her nervously grab a large silver spoon. "You learn fast, congratulations!"
Blushing at Tracey's praise, Lucie still felt proud of herself for this tiny but gratifying result, especially since the rest of the meal was for her a stimulating opportunity to learn more about what might become a routine aspect of her future life. The dishes thus followed in a spirit of learning, with Daphné and Tracey correcting her each time she made a mistake in using one or another utensil or trying in vain to teach her how to sit properly at the table. All of this was done in good humor, to the point that each forgot completely about the apprehension that had haunted them until then. Daphné even thought for a moment that she was back in Lamballe, and it was only when she mistakenly called her neighbor by her sister's name when the latter happened to elbow her that she remembered where she was.
Finally, after a long meal interspersed with various types of dishes, the much-awaited desserts arrived, and here too, they were given the opportunity to discover new flavors, new varieties of fruits, or new succulent dishes which, unlike the appetizers, met with great success among all the students.
"What a strange fruit!" Lucie giggled, examining the banana she held carefully. "How do you eat it?"
"You have to peel it," Tracey explained, accompanying the gesture with her words. "The skin is disgusting, but the core is absolutely divine! You can estimate if this fruit is ripe by the dark spots on it and the yellow color of the skin."
"She doesn't even know how to recognize a banana," giggled a girl a few seats away with a thin and haughty face. "Heavens, this school has fallen so low to welcome peasants among its students..."
The remark did not escape Daphné, who gave the student in question the coldest look she was capable of. The desired effect was instantaneous, and the girl quickly lost her mocking smile to adopt a more circumspect air towards her. The brief staring match lasted a few seconds before Daphné, satisfied with the result, finally turned her head to focus her attention on her friend, who fortunately had not heard any of the derogatory comments about her.
"It's delicious!" she said with delight as she chewed on her fruit. "Do you think I could send some to my family? My parents might like it!"
"For that, it would be better to ask before undertaking something that would turn out to be forbidden," Tracey wisely replied, pushing her dessert plate away. "For my part, I'm not hungry anymore!"
The meal was quickly over, but it was especially an opportunity for Daphné and Tracey to enjoy their new friend's joy when she discovered a new flavor or a new fruit. They themselves had to admit that they did not know some of them, but unlike Lucie, courage failed them when it came to trying them. The dishes that were initially full of victuals suddenly emptied, but some, perhaps anticipating nighttime hunger, had discreetly slipped some additional provisions into their pockets, which only slightly bulged the fabric of their uniforms. Once again, silence came, but in a gradual manner. It was only when Madame Maxime stood up again, towering over her small students, that it became complete.
"First of all, I would like to remind you of some small points from the regulations, a copy of which will be distributed to you tomorrow," she said in the same warm tone that characterized her. "Firstly, it is mandatory to know the 117 rules that make it up, and some of our older students would do well to remember them if they do not want to be caught off guard when questioned about them."
Daphné, who was glancing at Tracey, couldn't help but make a tiny smile at her best friend's dismayed expression. Asking Tracey to learn 117 rules was akin to teaching a troll to walk gracefully; in a word, it was an exploit.
"I would also like to inform our new students that the schedules set by Beauxbâtons must be respected, and a failure to comply with this rule will result in a penalty. Wake-up is at six o'clock, regardless of your schedule. You will have an hour to get ready and wash, then be invited to have your first meal in this hall. At eight o'clock, it is mandatory to attend the school chapel for those of you who are not secular or from a completely different religion for an hour of theological readings and prayers. The others will be invited to work in the library or attend the optional classes that will be offered to you. Then, at nine o'clock, classes begin until noon, where you will attend the second meal of the day. Classes will then resume for the rest of the afternoon until six o'clock, with, of course, a short half-hour break for you during which you can walk freely in the school courtyard. The last meal of the day will be at seven o'clock, and then another hour of prayers or optional classes will be held. At the end of this hour, you must return to your rooms where you will spend the rest of the evening. I don't care what time you go to bed, but no one except the prefects should be caught wandering the school corridors late at night."
Her gaze lingered for a moment on some girls, and Daphné noticed with satisfaction that Fleur's face had suddenly turned pale: Miss Perfect had violated a rule? That was interesting...
"I will also inform the new students that it is strictly forbidden to leave the school grounds, and this includes everything beyond the first line of Beauxbâtons fortifications. The only exception to this rule is in the context of educational outings given by your magical creatures study professor. The first and second courtyards, which house rooms reserved for school employees, are also off-limits to you: the doors to each of the courtyards close automatically at the school curfew, and I will personally ensure that unfortunate students caught in these places are severely punished..."
"It's all about punishment here...," Tracey grumbled as quietly as possible.
"This way, you won't make the same mistake twice...," Daphné replied in the same manner.
"Now, all I have left to do is wish you a good night and good luck on your first day of classes," Madame Maxime concluded, gesturing for them to leave.
Immediately, hundreds of chairs began to move, and multiple conversations crossed the room. Daphné, Tracey, and Lucie were eager to join in, but as if by magic, Victoire made her first appearance of the evening. In a mood as friendly as in the carriage, she ordered Lucie in a sharp tone to follow her to guide her to her room, while informing Daphné and Tracey that Fleur would do the same with them when she deigned to show them interest. Both shrugged, although they knew perfectly well that the elder Delacour would take her time to undertake this task, which she did. It took about five minutes for Fleur to finally join them, accompanied nonetheless by Marie, who, unlike her friend, displayed a sincere smile when she saw them.
"So? Did you enjoy your first evening at Beauxbâtons?" she asked right away.
"Hm, I've had better... But tell me: is breathing a little too loudly also punishable by a penalty?" Tracey asked sarcastically. "I'm sure Gabriel is not at risk of so many sanctions in his military academy..."
"You'll get used to it," replied Marie, chuckling lightly. "Just think that you have to be careful at all times about your behavior, what you say, and gestures that could be misinterpreted..."
"What you will learn very quickly, I am sure," Fleur concluded coldly before gesturing for them to follow her to the exit. "I have other things to worry about right now, so please follow me!"
"Always so friendly, that one...," Tracey muttered. "Maybe replacing her juice with a pint of beer during meals would cheer her up a bit!"
She agreed, however, to follow her, as did the other two, even if it seemed obvious that it was reluctantly. After a short detour through the school entrance to retrieve their luggage, which Daphné began to levitate with a spell, all four headed towards the door facing the entrance. On the other side was a reasonably sized room, but only equipped with a large spiral staircase that probably went up to the top of the building. A pretty black-painted iron railing decorated with elegant motifs composed it, and the wall on which the staircase turned was completed with recesses in which beautiful marble statues stood, greeting each student passing by them. Daphné and Tracey, however, paid little attention to this detail, both too occupied with listening to Marie's recommendations as their guide and adviser, a task normally delegated to Fleur.
"Each landing corresponds to a school year, which means your room is on the first floor. You will find three doors each time: one leading to the bedroom corridor, a second leading to the private apartments of the responsible person for your year..."
"Who happens to be Madame Beaumont," added Fleur with a malicious smile. "It seems she enjoys taking care of first-year students. It allows her to identify early on those who deserve to study in this school from those who do not belong here..."
"Errors are within everyone's reach, then, because she didn't realize you fell into the second category...," retorted Daphné.
Tracey burst into laughter immediately, and even Marie managed a small smile that disappeared as soon as Fleur noticed.
"Returning to the doors, the third one contains the room where you will wash and where the lavatories are also located. It's better for you to get up very early to avoid the daily hustle and be presentable very quickly. The administration detests unkempt students, even if it shows leniency during your first week of classes. So, don't take the risk of displeasing them because your clothes are not properly worn or your hair is still wet. Remember also that it is customary to make the connection between the corridor and your bathroom in appropriate clothing, in other words, a dressing gown. Your supervisor is particularly strict about that, and if she catches you walking in nightwear, she'll offer you one of her famous sermons."
"That Madame Beaumont seems very pleasant...," Tracey muttered bitterly, shaking her head.
"Oh, you'll see, over time, she turns out to be a very kind woman on whom you can always rely," Marie assured her. "Just make sure to stay in her good graces because she never places her trust in people twice."
The first landing was finally reached a few seconds later, and after Marie's last recommendations, Fleur chose to continue climbing the stairs without even wishing them goodnight. Daphné and Tracey then headed towards the door indicating their room. The corridor behind it was vast, and dozens of doors extended on either side of the wall. The darkness didn't allow them to truly get an idea of the layout, but the ceiling above their heads, illuminated by the first rays of the moon, offered a wonderful view of painted mythological frescoes.
What struck them, however, was not encountering a single girl in this corridor, as if everyone had already found a room to share. Had their conversation with Marie and Fleur taken so long? They wondered about it themselves, but the surprise was even greater when a few seconds later, a door a few meters away opened with a loud creak, quickly accompanied by shouts. Two girls came out afterward, dragging behind them a third who was vainly trying to free herself from the grip of the other two. However, her fight was in vain, and in no time, she was brutally lifted and thrown onto the paved floor like a common piece of luggage. A fourth girl emerged from the room, and after a remark that Daphné couldn't clearly understand, the three young ladies immediately began to giggle at the misfortune of the one they had just ruthlessly expelled from the room. The light emitted from inside the room allowed them to realize that it was Lucie, and from then on, everything happened in quick succession:
"Hey there!" Tracey called out harshly, approaching. "What do you want from her!? What kind of manners are these!"
"And what do you want, little fool?" mockingly asked the one who seemed to be the leader of the small group, the same girl who had already mocked Lucie during dinner. "Go whine in your mommy's skirts and let the grown-ups take care of their business..."
"Except that it's our friend you're making fun of, therefore, it concerns us as well," Daphné replied with a particularly cold tone, staring intensely at her.
The girl did the same, but her silly smile at the sight of poor Lucie lying on the floor turned into a more serious and concerned expression as she began to examine Daphné's appearance. Vilifying a peasant seemed to be a pleasure she relished, but the obvious wealth in Harry's fiancée's attire somewhat disconcerted her, so she quickly lost her insolence and refrained from making any comments about her.
"Surprising," she said after a while, looking alternately at Daphné and Lucie. "This would make the heyday of Jean de la Fontaine: An improbable friendship between a peasant and a rich heiress! Something to make a pretty poem!"
"Except that Monsieur de la Fontaine's poems always had a moral at the end, something that seems profoundly foreign to you, judging by your actions," Daphné retorted, helping her friend to get up. "I don't think it's intelligent and constructive to discuss with a person lacking moral and critical sense; it would be like talking to a mere animal..."
One of the other girls, whose build was almost twice that of Daphné, then advanced towards her with the firm intention of physically confronting her. However, a hand stopped her in her tracks, a hand owned by none other than their leader. The girl blinked stupidly at her superior's gesture, and at that moment, both Daphné and the other two thought she was going to disobey when she tried to push away the outstretched arm. Still, a new piercing look from the leader ultimately dissuaded her from going any further.
"No," the leader added, fixing her with a hard stare. "We're going to behave like nice young girls from good families and not respond to her provocation with violence. Do you understand?"
"Y-yes," the brute mumbled, stepping back slightly. "But she deserves a good lesson!"
"Of course," her leader replied, turning her attention back to Daphné. "You'll quickly understand, my little lady, that things here will unfold differently than when you lived with your parents, and there will be no one to protect the little princess that you are against the terrible dangers of this school."
"Threats?" protested Tracey, stepping towards her, ignoring the fact that she was towering over her by nearly a head.
"I would say it's more of advice," the leader replied, casually rubbing her nails on her dress. "I would be truly saddened if by chance something happened to your little friend because she had too loose a tongue..."
"Know that the advice is obviously reciprocated," Daphné assured her, furrowing her brows slightly. "If I catch you mistreating any of my friends again, you'll understand the meaning of the word 'regret' when you find yourself facing me within the next minute."
The girl didn't respond, choosing instead to signal her two friends to return to the room. Her gaze never left Daphné's, as if she were assessing whether she was worthy of becoming a rival or, at the very least, a person worthy of her interest. Then, just as the two brutes serving as her lackeys returned with Lucie's suitcases, which they didn't hesitate to throw on the ground, their leader spoke again, a mysterious smile playing on her lips:
"I like you," she said, giving Daphné a piercing look. "I don't like to be opposed, even less to be threatened, but I'll make a little exception for you. I sense that the next seven school years might be amusing in your company."
She then turned around, following her two roommates with light steps. However, just before entering her room definitively, she turned again towards them, a playful gleam in her eyes:
"Oh, I forgot: Sorry to have to take this room, princess, but you'll have to find another room with your friend the pauper! She said the last one is very comfortable! You should hurry before it's taken!"
And with these words, she closed the door behind her, gracing all three of them with a particularly loud laughter that even the wooden door couldn't muffle. Her roommates seemed to quickly join her because less than a second after she disappeared, two other laughter accompanied hers in a devilish cacophony. Daphné and the others took a few seconds to recover from this last verbal exchange, still shocked by the violence with which this girl had ruthlessly thrown poor Lucie out of her room.
"That... That wench!" raged Tracey, approaching the door, fist raised. "Wait until I show her what I think! Open up, you vile carrion! Damn! Pipe-fitter...!"
"Is she... Is she always like that?" Lucie asked Daphné in a bewildered tone as she covered her face, dismayed by her best friend's attitude.
"When she's angry, I suppose," she replied as Tracey accompanied each insult with a kick on the door to the laughter of the other three girls.
"It's... It's very strange to see that in a girl... Well... of much better standing than mine," Lucie argued, looking at her dubiously.
"Then you still have a lot to learn from Tracey because you're certainly not at the end of your troubles," Daphné assured her as she finally approached her friend to grab her arm firmly. "Will you calm down, Tracey? We've only been here for a few hours now, and you're already at risk of drawing attention to us!"
"Well, what? Should we let them get away with it without even responding to their provocations!?" she exclaimed, glaring at the door. "I'm not like that, and I intend to show these mean girls that you don't mock Tracey Davis like that!"
"We'll have our revenge, I can assure you, but we must show ourselves more intelligent than her, and certainly not by breaking down their dorm room door; you won't distinguish yourself at that level."
Still angry but calmed by Daphné's words, Tracey seemed to regain composure and immediately stopped spewing insults at the three other girls. The corridor fell silent once again, and it was during this realization that Daphné noticed they were now the last three first-year girls still not in bed. A quick glance also confirmed that curfew was approaching, and if she didn't want to receive a punishment on her very first evening that both her family and her fiancé's would later reproach her for, she quickly opted for the last solution available: That infamous last room that "the wench," as Tracey aptly named her, had talked about.
"We better hurry," she informed them, pulling out her magic wand to levitate her numerous trunks into the air. "We have only five minutes left to find a room to rest in, and it seems that all the ones in this corridor are already taken..."
"You're right," Tracey immediately replied, copying her friend. "But you can believe me: Revenge is being planned from tomorrow onwards!"
"I hope so, and I certainly intend to be a part of it," Daphné assured her, leading the way.
Their journey began in a heavy silence, only disturbed by the noise caused by Lucie's suitcase dragging behind her, a detail that didn't escape Daphné. Turning her head, she met Lucie's two blue orbs, who, in the current state of affairs, displayed a regretful expression at what she internally considered evidence of her incompetence compared to her friends' magical prowess. Indeed, it was challenging to drag behind oneself three suitcases and a bag filled with clothes when you knew no spells to facilitate their transport. Daphné didn't hesitate to come to her aid. With a simple wave of her wand, Lucie's belongings floated near hers, forming a massive pile of several kilos that someone as fragile as her would not be able to lift under normal circumstances.
"Thank you," she said, smiling. "You'll have to teach me that spell in the future so I don't become the dead weight of our little group..."
"You're not dead weight," Tracey corrected patiently, accompanying her in the walk. "You just... have more to learn than we do about magic, but you'll quickly realize, as early as tomorrow, that you're not the only one who doesn't know spells as rudimentary as levitation. Daphné and I had a very advanced education in the matter, especially Daphné, to be honest... And not everyone has the privilege of benefiting from it. Most people hide this gift for fear of persecution by the Muggle population, whereas we grew up in an environment where magic was omnipresent..."
"That's what happened to me," she quickly confessed anxiously. "My mother made me promise never to show my magic in public for fear of being accused of witchcraft and ending up on a stake. She's not a witch, neither is my father, but she was afraid of being accused of teaching me these 'tricks,' as she called them. So, I didn't say anything about it until Madame Maxime came to visit us a few months ago."
"It's a shame," Tracey said thoughtfully. "If we detected magical abilities in Muggle children early on, we could give them a significant magical education from a young age, reducing the gap with those like me who have had the privilege of it."
"That's true," Daphné agreed without dwelling further on the subject. "Let's keep moving. There should be an available room not far from here..."
Their walk resumed without any of them initiating a conversation. The anxiety, perhaps at the thought of being caught in the corridor just minutes before curfew, meant that none of them were in the mood to try to lighten the atmosphere. The corridor, although wide and spacious, was perfectly deserted, and not a sound from the rooms could be heard from outside, making it easy to believe that all the students were already in bed. Consequently, there was no indication of the exact time for them, and only the moon visible beyond the immense window at the other end of the corridor allowed them to know that it was now well into the night. The few candles hanging on the wall failed to mask the almost complete darkness of the room, and the ominous shadows they cast suddenly gave Lucie the irresistible urge to get as close to Daphné as possible. Daphné, too preoccupied with estimating which room might still be available, paid no attention to her friend. At least until Lucie accidentally stepped on her foot.
"I'm sorry," she apologized once again, stepping back slightly.
"No problem," Daphné assured her, turning her gaze towards the door in front of which the three of them had just stopped. "I think we've arrived anyway."
The first thing that struck all three of them was that it was in very bad condition. Although still on its hinges, it seemed that the slightest gust of wind could knock it down, and the metal pieces, held by old, completely rusted screws, were a reflection of the wooden panel they held: old, damaged, and urgently in need of replacement.
"Is... Is this it?" Lucie nervously asked, looking dismayed at the old door.
"I suppose..." Daphné replied, looking around for any additional doors. "But I hope I'm wrong..."
Deciding it was better to check it out for themselves, Daphné chose to open the door immediately. The door creaked so loudly when barely opened that the noise echoed throughout the corridor. Terrified at the thought of alerting the entire staff, Daphné immediately rushed inside, Tracey, Lucie, and all the luggage following suit. Plunged into darkness, Daphné was unable to aim properly, and the chaos that ensued a few seconds later confirmed that all their trunks and bags had just scattered throughout the room.
"Lumos," she muttered, trying to assess the extent of the damage.
The result quickly appeared before her eyes, but that wasn't the only thing that caught her attention. Her eyes widened in horror when she saw for herself the reason why no one had chosen this room, and deep down, she perfectly understood why.
"By Merlin's underpants!" exclaimed Tracey, and no one reprimanded her for the language.
The room looked more like a storage space for broken furniture than a real dormitory, and the presence of multiple cobwebs suggested that it hadn't been inhabited for years. The windows, once gleaming with light, were now covered in dirt, and some broken panes allowed the cold night air to seep in, while the shutters themselves were simply placed on the floor next to their twisted hinges. Two of the wardrobes had no doors or drawers, and the bar on one of them, where their belongings were supposed to be, had simply disappeared. As for the beds, they looked more like roughly carved slabs with legs inserted. The canopies were in poor condition, and the bed curtains attached to the rest of the ensemble did not provide a sense of security to the three unfortunate girls who were to sleep on them for the night.
"Are we really going to sleep here!?" exclaimed Tracey, inspecting the torn bed canopy.
"It seems that way," Daphné replied, for whom this new environment didn't seem to have affected her detached demeanor in such circumstances. "The last room is generally assigned to the poorest student in the school, but I never imagined it would be in this condition..."
"Even more reason!" insisted her friend, angrily hitting one of the bed legs. "You're the daughter of an English lord, engaged to a prince, and above all, you're going to inherit several titles that all the girls in this school would dream of! You should have the best, after all!"
"And what do you want us to do!?" retorted her friend, turning towards her. "Shall we go straight to one of the other rooms and evict the occupants, as the three harpies did earlier? I don't go down that path, Tracey, and using violence to solve my problems is by no means a principle that guides my conduct..."
To Tracey's surprise, Daphné then rolled up her sleeves and, grabbing her wand again, pointed it at the meager wooden bed that was supposed to serve as her cot, smiling:
"No," she said, already making complicated arm and hand movements. "I'll use much more traditional methods that happen to be in my wheelhouse..."
The following was a veritable burst of silver lights that dazzled the two other occupants in the room for a while. Blinded by the bright light emitted by Daphné's wand, Tracey immediately covered her eyes, quickly joined by Lucie. The entire room seemed trapped in a halo of light, as bright as the sun on a beautiful summer day, and Tracey had no doubt that, from the outside, the entire region could, if invisibility and Muggle-repelling spells didn't exist, see the work Daphné was doing on this tiny room.
Yet, as quickly as she had started her task, Daphné abruptly ended it, but Tracey waited until the room's prevailing darkness reappeared.
"Are you going to tell us what you were doing?" she grumbled, fluttering her eyes, still slightly dizzy from her friend's spells.
However, her question remained suspended at the very moment her irises settled on the furniture in the room. Everything had absolutely changed for the better, and if two minutes earlier this room looked like a pigsty left to rot, it now presented a much more welcoming face. Everything had been repaired by Daphné, and while the furniture retained its rustic appearance without any frills, Harry's fiancée had managed, with a simple wave of her wand, to restore them to their former beauty to the point where they now looked completely new. Daphné had even carved a small fireplace in the rock, where a small wood fire was now peacefully crackling, and a frame displaying one of Harry's many portraits already hung above it. To further enhance the decor, Daphné had already arranged the personal belongings of each of the girls in their designated spots, and the window, which was once no larger than a bedside table, now had sufficient height and width to allow the installation of lovely green silk curtains.
"It's still temporary," Daphné said, looking embarrassed in the face of her friends' astonished expressions, "but I think the general idea is there. I just hope Madame Maxime won't reproach me for the few little adjustments I allowed myself to make in this room."
"By Circe, how did you manage this miracle!?" exclaimed Tracey, keeping her eyes wide open.
"I... Stepmother taught me these spells," she nervously replied. "She claimed that a woman should always know the common household spells to maintain her home and keep it suitable for all potential visitors, especially those who would work with Gabriel. According to her, 'the house is a reflection of a person's soul, rectitude, and respectability,' so people of our standing must keep a home as clean and well-appointed as possible..."
"Is all this really for me?" interrupted Lucie, almost cautiously touching the bed covers as if afraid to damage them.
"Of course," Daphné assured her, looking at her somewhat circumspectly. "Is something bothering you?"
Lucie didn't respond immediately, choosing instead to linger over the canopy of her bed and the softness of her mattress, which she tested extensively. Then, just as Daphné and Tracey were losing hope of hearing her answer, she finally spoke in an almost inaudible voice, where the emotion was easily perceptible:
"I never had a real mattress," she whispered. "I used to sleep on a straw pallet until yesterday, and the sheets on my bed were full of holes... I... I feel like I'm living the childhood dream I had when I was younger, and I really hope not to wake up tomorrow discovering that everything that happened today was just a dream..."
Touched by her words, Daphné and Tracey approached her and, without warning, each wrapped their arms around her waist and shoulders. No words were exchanged, but by this simple gesture, both expressed to their new friend the unwavering support they promised her. Lucie was moved by this outpouring of friendship, but another thought emerged in her: Yes, she wasn't rich; Yes, she currently had no talent in magic; Yes, compared to them, she felt weak and useless; But at least, she now knew that she wasn't alone to face this unknown world, and beyond her hopes for a better life by entering Beauxbatons, she had found something much stronger:
A beautiful budding friendship.
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