169AN: What can I say? It's been a long time but this story hasn't been abandoned. Hopefully I get back to writing it but no promise on when it will update, other than it will be whenever a chapter gets written
Chapter 4
Dinner was a nervy affair for the four new students; they were sitting together around what looked a comically small table given the size of the room and all four kept casting glances at the only other occupied table in the huge hall, which the staff were sat around (the half-giantess Headmistress took up a large part of it by herself). Hermione in particular seemed to spend more time looking at the staff and trying to gauge her results by their expressions than she did eating.
Once dinner was over she approached them, handing them the information of the classes they would be joining based on the results of their aptitude tests.
Harry and Hermione shared nervous but supportive looks before unfolding the papers they'd been given; Harry's shoulders sagged with relief as he took in the results: he would be joining 5A for Defence against the Dark Arts, Charms, Potions and Physical Education (which included Flying and Quidditch); Maxime would later tell him to expect to be in demand when the Quidditch teams were being put together early in the new school year. Additionally he would be in 5B for Astronomy and Transfiguration (and he was silently thanking Fleur for her tuition in Potions, Transfiguration and Charms over the summer for getting him up to speed with them) with the one disappointment for him being his being placed in class 5D for History; it turned out that pretty much EVERYONE knows about the main events of French magical history and that most students know the dates as well, at least. He was upset with himself to have tested so poorly in the subject and resolved to spend some time on an evening (after taking a Portkey home) talking with Delacours and getting the History background down in the hopes of trying to move up a class or two over the remainder of his time at the school.
Hermione's face fell as she read her own paper; while she would be in 5A for Transfiguration, Charms and Astronomy and her past trips to France, particularly the visit a couple of summers ago, saw her into 5B for History her poor tuition in the past years and lack of practice over the summer saw her slip into the same group for Potions as well (after seeing Harry in 5A she decided to speak to Fleur herself about some extra lessons in the subject so she can improve) along with Defence. Despite expecting it, she still felt embarrassed to be in 5D for Physical Education. She was happy that at least she'd be in the same class as Harry for Ancient Runes and Arithmancy (as well as Charms) and hoped to join him in a higher class for Potions soon.
A pair of groans from beside them caused the two new fifth years to turn round; the twins both looked rather put out with something.
"Problems?" Harry asked.
"Not really," Georges replied.
"Just that we are in all the same classes. It is always the same," his sister lamented. "I thought for sure we would test differently in something. How about you?"
"As good as I could have hoped for," Harry replied.
"Not as good as I hoped for," Hermione grumbled.
Mme Maxime approached them at the end of dinner. "I understand you will wish to go home some evenings," she addressed the two fifth-years especially, "but I ask that you remain here tonight and tomorrow so that you can meet your new classmates."
Harry nodded his agreement, as did Hermione. "Meeting our new friends sounds like a good idea," he confirmed.
Gryffindor Tower,
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
It hadn't taken long for Ron Weasley to become dissatisfied with his lot in life. Malfoy had been quick to gloat over his 'abandonment' by Harry and Hermione, asking how he was going to cope now that he didn't have 'the mudblood' to copy all his answers from.
"Is it any wonder they both left the school?" a disgusted Neville asked, witnessing the staff's customary lack of response to the blond's taunts. He especially disliked the way the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, a squat witch dressed in garish pink, giggled simperingly at Malfoy's question. Dean and Seamus nodded along, the three Gryffindor fifth-year boys discussing how to boycott Professor Umbridge's classes.
Ron, meanwhile, took to sulking alone in the corner of the common room; he snapped at his sister when she went to talk to him, drawing the ire of his twin brothers for doing so.
"Look, Ron," Fred began, "you knew they weren't coming back and it's not surprising that that blond git would comment on it."
"That Umbridge hag is one to watch," George added darkly. "It looks like she's got plans to rival Snape as chief Slytherin cheerleader."
They were surprised when this made Ron first snigger then begin to giggle and laugh uncontrollably.
"Care to share the joke, little brother?" Fred asked once the younger redhead had regained some semblance of control.
"Just you mentioning cheerleaders: Dean had a magazine with pictures of muggle cheerleaders last year and I was imagining Snape dressed in one of their outfits." He suddenly shuddered as the thought of a similarly dressed Umbridge came to mind, along with an even bigger shudder that he attributed to some of the other photos of posing cheerleaders in that magazine. "You really don't want to know, trust me," he assured the twins as they eyed him quizzically. "Well," he added when the gazes persisted, "you might want to see some of Dean's pictures but not what I was just thinking of…"
Beauxbatons Academy of Magic,
Once dinner was over the four students were free for the evening; Hermione headed for the library, a shrugging Harry decided to tag along with the notes he'd brought from home (as he wasn't certain his French was up to reading library text books just yet). They bid a good night to their new schoolmates and headed down the well-lit corridor towards la biblioteque.
"The lighting is much better in this place," Harry observed as they approached their destination.
"Yes, I don't think the library is quite as big or extensive as Hogwarts' was but we can't have everything."
"At least Fleur, her family and Sirius can get me anything I really need quite quickly," he noted.
"Lucky you," Hermione groused lightly, well aware that she'd be able to borrow books from them as well.
"You've had enough?" Hermione looked up from her tome as she saw and heard Harry stand; he nodded, hiding a yawn behind his hand.
"It's getting late," he observed, nodding at the clock on the wall behind her; she looked over her shoulder and her eyes widened.
"I hadn't realised we'd been here that long."
"Well you've read half of the book," he grinned at her, causing a red blush to creep up her cheeks. "I took a shower last night because we were up late studying; tonight I'm going to enjoy the big bath in the boys' bathroom."
"Sounds great; I might join you…" her blush intensified as she realised what she'd said. "I mean, use the bath in the girls' room."
Harry sniggered at her discomfort but his mind wandered to Fleur sneaking into the school and them having quality time in the tub together.
Great Hall,
Saturday, 2nd September 1995
"Welcome," Maxime's voice boomed over the hall; instantly it fell silent and students scrambled for seats. Harry shot Hermione an embarrassed grin; a huge mass of bodies had congregated around them (around him mainly) to confirm that Harry Potter was really in their midst. Like the other students the two Brits wore the pale blue robes of the school and, looking around the Hall, Harry felt he blended well into the scenery. He hoped, perhaps optimistically, that in a couple of days people would be used to him and he could finally be 'Just Harry'.
It had been a quiet day for them at the school; students had been arriving by portkey all day but Harry and Hermione had spent much of the day either in the library studying or wandering the grounds (Harry also took the opportunity to fly a little, Hermione refused to join him). They had met their new dorm mates shortly before dinner and headed down en masse to the welcoming dinner where the rest of their new year group, and a lot of other students, had congregated around them to welcome them to the school (and to meet Famous Harry Potter).
Dormitory 5G12
Becoming 'Just Harry' was clearly not going to happen tonight; the new student was the centre of attention when he and his dorm mates made it to their room. The topic of conversation never settled, however, on that fateful Halloween night of yesteryear – though they did ask several questions about Voldemort's aborted return at the start of the summer and some other details of the Tri-Wizard Tournament, having only heard a few details when the Beauxbatons contingent returned right at the end of the previous year. The bulk of their questions, however, involved Fleur: to fifteen-year-old Frenchmen Harry's love life with a stunning Veela was far more important than a half-dead Dark Lord. Harry, though, was rather reluctant to brag or to go into any details; he really loved Fleur and, as he explained, was unwilling to say anything that might embarrass or reflect badly on her. Most of the boys accepted and understood this, though the lack of details did disappoint them somewhat.
"'Arry," one of the boys said as he flopped onto Harry's bed (around which the others had congregated), "Mme Maxime asked me to show you around the school: to make sure you know where to go for each class. Jean-Claude Deveraux," he introduced himself, offering his hand to the new student. "We will share most of our classes," he declared before adding in a murmur, "I can show you where History class is as well." Harry nodded, still feeling rather embarrassed by his poor showing in the test for that subject.
"Will you two be on the same team?" one of the others asked; Deveraux's eyes lit up at the prospect. "J-C is the star Chaser in the school," the boy continued, "and your skills on a broom are well known."
"I think any of the captains in the school will be desperate to have you both on the same team," another noted.
"I have been made a captain this year," Deveraux disclosed, producing the badge from his pocket. He looked at Harry. "I am certainly hoping that the two of us will be on the same team, 'Arry, we would be unstoppable."
French Embassy,
London, United Kingdom
Monday, 4th September 1995
Cornelius Fudge barely suppressed a growl of frustration as he trudged through the magical annex to the Embassy building, cursing Dumbledore with every step. His lime green briefcase (matching his trademark bowler hat) contained just two sheets of parchment, which the Chief Warlock had convinced the Minister to submit to the French Ambassador. Fudge knew it wouldn't work, he was certain of that fact but Dumbledore had insisted; at least, the old wizard argued, it would look like Fudge was doing something about the situation. That if he did nothing the Wizengamot would quickly learn that factoid was strongly implied and encouraged Cornelius to act.
"Minister!" the Ambassador greeted him genially as he was shown into his office. "To what do I owe ze pleasure of your company?"
"Ambassador Dubois," Fudge began haltingly, delving into his briefcase and retrieving the two sheets, "the Magical government of Great Britain does hereby formally request the extradition of Harry James Potter." He placed one piece of parchment on the astounded Frenchman's desk. "Furthermore, the government formally requests that France also extradite Hermione Jean Granger back to our shores."
"On what grounds?" Dubois asked once his jaw was in working order again.
"Our Ministry has received intelligence that in recent days both Granger and Potter have breached the Reasonable Restriction on Underage Wizardry by casting multiple spells while away from their school."
Dubois read through the sheets, his frown intensifying as it did. "Minister Fudge, your request claims zat ze two are away from 'Ogwarts," he observed. "My government 'as confirmed zat zey now attend Beauxbatons…"
"Our Chief Warlock does not recognise the transfer," Fudge interrupted.
"'E would not, as 'e ees also ze 'eadmaster, non?" Dubois leaned forward and headed off a response. "Monsieur Fudge, I understand zat eet ees an embarrassment to your country and to Dumbledore's school, to lose ze boy 'oo leeved, and I can understand zat you want 'eem back but 'ee 'as made 'ees choice; 'Arry is quite 'igh profile in France now, especially being involved with Mademoiselle Delacour. Our government accepted both 'e and mademoiselle Granger as Beauxbatons students, I 'ave friends who say zey are at ze school right now, 'aving sat tests to assess zer classes for ze year so I can assure you zat zey 'ave not used magic away from school – or in an area zat would endanger ze Statute of Secrecy. I cannot, zerefore, accept your extradition request for zem." He held out the papers to return them to the Briton.
Fudge nodded as he accepted the sheets; he hadn't expected anything else after all. "Very well. I did tell Dumbledore it wouldn't work but I had to at least look like I was trying to get the boy back in Britain."
Dubois nodded; he stood and offered the Minister a glass of cognac. It may be early but Fudge reasoned it was five o'clock somewhere, and that the longer he could stay in the Embassy the more it looked like he was at least making some progress on the Potter front; he happily accepted the drink.
"Is there anything you can give me to take back?" he asked hopefully; Dubois' eyes glinted mischievously.
Great Hall,
Beauxbatons Academy of Magic,
Marseilles, France
"Good morning, Harry," Hermione greeted him as she plonked herself down next to him at the table he and Jean-Claude were occupying. A blonde girl sat down at her other side; Harry was surprised when the blonde fired a scowl in his direction until Deveraux whispered to him.
"It is me that she detests, not you."
"This is Aimee Blanc, she's volunteered to show me around the school until I know where I'm going."
"Jean-Claude is doing the same for me," Harry gestured to the boy next to him. "How was your first evening with your new dorm mates?" he asked.
"Awkward," she replied, switching to English and dropping her voice a bit. "They gossip more than Parvarti and Lavender did, if you can believe that," Harry sniggered, "and the main topic of conversation was… well, you – you and Fleur but a lot of it was you."
"Same in my dorm," he replied, also in English, "but I didn't go into too many details and they seemed to accept it – for now anyway. Anyway, you survived the Pav and Lav show so these can't be too much worse, can they? Especially when you can always claim you don't understand the question if it gets too much."
"Yes but those two weren't so… liberated," she replied with a blush. Having heard Fleur's comments about her sleepwear, or lack thereof, when she was in the dormitories, Harry nodded, though his eyes glazed over a bit as his mind began trying to picture Aimee minus her robes, along with the other gabbling girls who has joined them at the table. "Speaking of whom, these are my other dorm mates," she gave a small wave to them.
Further conversation was interrupted by Mme Maxime as she arrived handing the two Britons their new timetables (Aimee explained to Hermione that the others had received theirs late in the summer when their classes were finalised). She was followed by an excited Gabrielle, who squeezed in between Harry and Jean-Claude (much to Aimee's amusement) and began gushing about her first night at the new school.
"'Arry," Maxime said as she appeared by him at lunch. "There has been a request," she continued, "for you to… appease your home country. Not to return," she added hastily, holding up a hand to forestall his protest, "but Minister Fudge would like you to write a letter saying that your problems were only with 'Ogwarts and not with Britain as a whole."
Harry grimaced. "I'm not sure that's strictly true, Madame," he replied, glancing meaningfully at Hermione, "blood prejudice is still rife there after all. But since I moved here for academic reasons – and personal ones," he conceded," I suppose I could send Mr Fudge his letter."
The large Headmistress nodded curtly and returned to the top table.
"History after lunch," Deveraux pointed out. "I will show you to your classroom; the department is close to here so it should be easy to find."
Charms Classroom
"What's the smirk about?" Hermione whispered in English as Harry joined her at one of the room's desks.
"Just the look on Aimee's face every time she sees Jean-Claude."
"I'd noticed that they don't like each other much," she conceded. "Do you know what the story is there?"
"When we left after breakfast he told me that you had his sympathies for being stuck with her. They don't get on due to her 'haughty and superior attitude' – according to him anyway."
Hermione frowned again. "I quite like her," she replied. Harry chose not to comment that he wasn't at all surprised by that.
"How was History?" he asked instead.
"Fascinating," she replied, "it made me realise that I'd barely scratched the surface with all the magical sites I visited on holiday here over the last few years."
"Ok class," the teacher, a smiling witch called Madame Artois, called in a loud voice; all chatter ceased and eyes turned to the front of the room, "a quick revision class to begin the term. Summoning and banishing charms." A gesture to a stack of cushions in the corner of the room followed before a short instruction: "Begin!"
Accios rent the air; cushions soon filled it, flying all over the classroom. Jean-Claude showed excellent control of the two charms to send a cushion in Aimee's direction, knocking her hat off. She responded immediately by banishing one square into his face, causing the teacher to sigh while many of the students began to laugh at battle being resumed so early in the new term. Harry tried to ignore this, focussing instead on making sure he got a cushion to come to him before banishing it straight back into the box, a fraction of a second before Hermione landed hers directly on top of it.
"Impressive," she praised him.
"You too," he replied with a grin before groaning as a stray cushion from Aimee hit him in the face.
Hermione turned to remonstrate with her new friend, only to be shocked as Mme Artois cast Petrificus Totalis at Aimee before she could even apologise to Harry; she crashed to the floor before being levitated to the side of the room and rotated until upright.
"I have tolerated the two of you bickering for too long," she snapped, looking between Blanc and Deveraux; the smirk he'd worn at his nemesis's public embarrassment vanished as soon as the Charms mistress turned on him. "I had hoped that you would have grown out of this over the summer but clearly I was wrong. When the two of you squabble, that is one thing – but to involve other students, especially when they are new to the school – that is inexcusable." She sighed and cast a quick Expelliarmus on the two of them, catching both wands and stowing them in her robes. "Since you continue to behave like children, I will treat you like children: neither of you will cast another spell in this class until I am satisfied that you are mature enough to do so." She released Aimee from the body bind and the blonde stumbled forward a little before catching her balance. "Every class, you will both surrender your wands to me and spend the period writing about the theory of the spell we are studying. Is that understood?" When there was no reply she repeated, "Is that understood?"
"Yes, madame," the two replied sullenly, locking eyes in a look of mutual loathing.
"You two – to the table at the back, books out, writing about the two charms. The rest of you, carry on – carefully," she instructed.
"A new record," Michel, another of Harry's roommates, whispered to him. "Normally it's at least the second week before she gets that upset with those two."
The rest of the class was conducted in a far more controlled manner.
"What are you doing now?" Hermione asked Harry as the class filed out of the room (Jean-Claude and Aimee had stormed out as soon as they were dismissed).
"Classes are over; I'm going to Portkey home for the night. You?"
"I… I think I'll stay here tonight," she replied. "Aimee could probably use a friend, not that I'm condoning what she did or anything."
"I understand," he told her reassuringly, "it was an accident. Good that Artois was on top of it so quickly. Kind of like McGonagall would be."
"She'd have hit the roof," Hermione agreed. "Anyway, see you tomorrow then?"
"Yep," he confirmed. He walked with her as far as the Great Hall, where Gabrielle was waiting for him to share the trip home, before pulling Hermione into a quick hug and then leaving the school with his girlfriend's sister to head for the Portkey point.
