Confirmation Time

Marie-Laure had spent many an hour in her bedroom at home practising the question she would ask her maternal grandfather over much of the summer holidays. Yet, every time she saw him the words would get stuck in her throat. She couldn't do it. She was going to have to figure out for herself whether or not Beauxbatons was the French boarding school her mother had gone to. All throughout her childhood she'd heard stories of her mother but never did any of those stories ever include details about the school she'd attended in France. It wasn't something Marie-Laure gave much thought to until after she received her letter. A letter which she received in the mail and not through the method she'd heard some of the other muggleborns had received theirs by. Why hadn't anyone visited her to explain everything? How had her father found out what to do? That answer, she hoped, would be in the library.

The library was busy with students all over the place, the older ones particularly stood out looking stressed with books and parchment scattered across tables. Marie-Laure ignored them all as she moved through the library to where the old school papers and year books were kept. She was a little vague on how old her mother was but suspected she must have been the same age as her father since they were childhood friends. How old was he again? Thirty-five or thirty-six? Her brow furrowed as she tried to recall the last birthday she'd been able to share with him. He'd been thirty-four hadn't he? That meant thirty-six. With that fixed in her mind she then counted back thirty-six years before realising that would be too far back. She sighed and counted forward eleven years and added another six before stopping on the year she thought her mother would have been a seventh year. Marie-Laure reached out and pulled the book with what she hoped was the correct year.

"Please let this be the one," she whispered as she opened it up at the table she'd found vacant. The second year glanced over various articles as she flicked through the pages before stopping on ones with pictures of the seventh years. A small gasp fell from her lips as she stared at the one photo she knew was her mother without even looking at the name 'Yvette Mercier' printed underneath. The teen in the picture was smiling and shaking her head at the same time. Marie-Laure touched the face gently and gave it a small sad smile. She'd know she took after her mother. She'd seen enough photos of her to know that. This was the first time she'd ever seen a moving photo and Marie-Laure almost felt as though she was staring at a photo of how she'd look in a few years time. The smile fell from the face as the thought she'd tried to keep firmly out of her head came to her. She'd been lied to. All these years her grandparents had lied to her. Her father must have too. He had to know otherwise how else did he know what to do and where to go for Marie-Laure's shopping? Marie-Laure wasn't the first witch in her family. One other had come before her and here was the proof right here in this photo.