Take a Seat

Marie-Laure was bewildered by her new surroundings. She may have been to France before but she'd never seen anything quite like La Petit Dragon. It was so different and there were a lot of strange people in and around this pub. The eleven year old jumped back as a seat moved by itself from one table to another. She blinked and then noticed a man holding a stick (one of those wands mentioned in her letter?) as he grabbed hold of the chair.

She looked up at her father who looked rather bemused himself. At least she wasn't the only one to be confused by this place but she did have to wonder when he found out the information. Had Beauxbatons been the French boarding school her deceased mother had attended? Marie-Laure shook her head at that thought. If she had surly Grandpapa Mercier would have said something.

A nudge from her father brought her out of her musings. "Take a seat Marie-Laure. I need to find out where we have to go for those things on that list of yours." She glanced up at him. "Take it where? I don't think I could do what he did." She pointed out the wizard she'd noticed earlier. Her father just shook his head. "Sit there Marie-Laure," he ordered before he walked off.

The eleven year old sat as ordered. Now what? If only she weren't the only one of her friends to be going to this weird school. She tapped her fingers and lifted her feet onto the seat opposite her. Noticing someone approaching her foot rest she suddenly burst out, "don't touch that seat. Take this one." She tapped the chair next to her.

Disappointedly and much unlike everyone else, Quentin was not accompanied by a parent. When he had first burst into his father's study, announcing the news of his letter having arrived, he had made the man promise to take him shopping. The promise lasted for awhile but when the day finally, he broke it with the excuse of being behind on his work. "If you need help you can always go and find your cousin." He told him before letting go of his hand after apparating and letting him run free. At least he had a pocket full of his father's money to spend at his own free will.

He entered the pub a bit crestfallen and looked to see if he could spot Christian anywhere. All he could find were kids that looked young enough to be his age. This seemed like an excellent opportunity to meet some people and so with a shrug, he walked over to a table where only a girl sat and decided to start there.

"Hello can I have-! Oh okay!" Quentin started to ask for the seat closest to where he was standing, however her warnings made him take a step back and hold his hands in the air. "You sure this seat is okay?" He asked before taking the one she said he could have. He wondered why she had exclaimed so, but looking down at the seat she had warned him against, he noticed a pair of feet resting on them.

"Yes of course it is," she replied. "I would have said so if it wasn't." What a silly question this boy asked. "I, Marie-Laure Sylvian, never lie." And that she believed with complete honesty. If she had ever lied she conveniently forgotten about the occasion. The girl shifted her feet and dropped them to the floor as she straightened up. That didn't mean she'd finished with the other chair. It still needed to stay vacant just in case she wanted to prop her feet up again.

Marie-Laure propped her elbow up on the table and rested her head on her hand. "So are you off to this school, this Beauxbatons for the first time too?" she asked. She couldn't be absolutely sure that there was only the one school which sold supplies in this place but it did pay to gather as much information as she could about it. Seven years sounded like a very long time to go to a school she'd never heard of before receiving her letter.

The boy's stomach rumbled and for a moment Quentin regretted not getting food before making his way over. However, if he had ordered food prior, perhaps in the time it took to receive his meal, this seat would have been taken, so maybe it was for the better. The girl seemed okay and was at least talking to him, so he couldn't completely complain.

He exaggerated a face of shock as she had asked him if he was in transit to Beauxbatons Academy. "How did you know!?" Quentin played. He supposed it wasn't obvious and was worth at least asking. "You must be a mind reader or something!"

She made a face at the boy. How was she supposed to be able to acquire information from someone who had to give her sarcastic answers like that. Marie-Laure shifted position so she could sit back and cross her arms. "There's no need to act like that when I asked a simple question," she retorted. "For all I knew you could be a second year couldn't you? Or younger and you're only here because of an older brother or sister." He certainly couldn't be that much older or younger than her if they weren't the same age.

Marie-Laure returned her feet to the chair and glanced around for her father again. She could see him speaking to someone in a strange robe type outfit. This place was stranger than strange. She returned her attention back to the boy. She was going to have to ask a direct question if she wanted any information. "How much do you know about Beauxbatons Academy of Magic?"

Quentin had raised an eyebrow at how poorly the girl responded to his joke. He had meant it all in good nature and she was treating it like he had jabbed her with a venomous stick. "Woah woah! No need to go and get your knickers in a knot!" He said, raising his hands to say he meant no harm. But perhaps this girl took things more seriously. Nonetheless, he decided to answer her questions anyway.

"Ah it is a fine school for students destined for excellency!" He over sold, not really sure why he was even trying to sell the school when it seemed like she was going anyway. "A lot of old people in my family went there when they weren't so old, so it's kind of a tradition for my family," He decided to get personal about it. "I've heard some stories. There's passageways, ghosts and lots and lots of homework." He stuck out his tongue at the last part. "Anything else you'd like to know, oh inquiring one?" He bowed slightly, starting to have fun again with the girl.

Marie-Laure didn't mind a joke or two. She and her friends often joked around together. However, in her opinion, there was a right and wrong time to make them. This was a wrong time and this boy should have realised that. She was on a fact gathering mission just like her father. "I wasn't getting my knickers in a knot," she grouched at him. "I was asking a serious question and you weren't giving me a serious answer." Now that hopefully made how she felt about his joking a little clearer.

"Excellency," she breathed. "I like the sound of that." If her mother had attended, Marie-Laure hadn't quite figured whether that was the case, then had she excelled? It hadn't sounded like it if she settled down to marry the owner of a menswear store. Maybe it was some other French boarding school mama had gone to. "Ghosts?" Marie-Laure looked at the boy with disdane. "There's no such thing as ghosts." That may not have been quite the right thing to say when she considered that she'd also thought there was no such thing as magic.

He was mocking her again. "Since your family has had some sort of tradition of going to this school maybe you can tell me a little about the types of subjects taught there. The booklist doesn't really give me much of an idea of what exactly they are supposed to be."

Without thinking, Quentin had rolled his eyes in his head as the girl insisted he was at fault. So maybe his joke had been untimely, but to him it was a simple question of conversation rather than a serious one. For example, if she was about to preform open heart surgery and needed his advice on something, he probably wouldn't have been so snarky.

He had sorta zoned out at some point as the girl seemed overly invited by the idea of excellency. In all honesty, he was kidding about that. Maybe some great blokes came from Beauxbatons, but probably no more than from Hogwarts or Durmstrang. He took that moment to notice the freckles on her face. She was awfully endowed with freckles and he forgot about their conversation for a moment to count them. He got to fifteen before she made a comment about ghosts which made him laugh.

"Yeah there is no such thing as ghosts just like there are no wizards or witches," He joked and laughed a little at his own joke. She was starting to sound like a muggleborn, not that he had any personal qualms with them. He did humor her with a straight answer for her next question. "Oh you know, the usual stuff. You've got your spell casting classes like transfiguration, charms, defense against the dark arts, then there's herbology and potions. Oh and there's flying! Can't wait for that one! My cousin has me well prepared! It's nothing out of the ordinary, though." He mused as he thought to himself that what was odd to him and what was odd to her had to be two entirely different things.

Marie-Laure scowled at him. "I am still adjusting to the whole thing about magic. There's no need to mock me for not knowing there really are ghosts and wizards and witches." And who knew what else. This entire conversation was not going at all the way Marie-Laure thought it should and she had the uncomfortable feeling he was studying her freckles. It really annoyed her when people did that and her scowl deepened. "You are aware aren't you that for someone who has lived in the sort of place I live something like the true existence of magic and ghosts would be very odd." It was high time he at least began to think about what it was like from her side.

"The usual stuff he says," she muttered. None of it had really answered her question and she could only hope the textbooks she was to buy would be clearer on what transfiguration and charms and all the rest really were about. "Flying?" She straightened up as her flying dreams came to mind along with stories of witches. "Like on a broom? How do you keep comfortable sitting on a stick of wood?" The ability to perform magic hadn't really captured her attention like the idea of being able to fly. Her dreams could come true. That was minus the flying bicycle. Though she did wonder if maybe that could be possible with magic.

It didn't take a mastermind like Sherlock Holmes to deduce that the girl with all of the freckles didn't like him that much. She kept scowling and getting oversensitive about his jokes, but he tried to not let it bother him. However, this wasn't a very promising start for him. What if all of the kids of Beauxbatons were just like the freckled girl?

"Perhaps it is time to open your mind up to possibilities, then," Quentin suggested, this time completely serious. That's what he had meant when he joked about wizards and ghosts. It only stood to reason that if one unusual thing existed, much more other's would too, right?

Nonetheless, she failed to appreciate his summary of classes even with his teeny tiny amount of effort put into it. Though she did seem to be interested in flying. Either that or she was just more weirded out about that class above the other ones. "Yeah on brooms!" He said, grinning. He couldn't wait to buy a broomstick of his own! Wait till Chris saw it! "Ummmm, use a cushion?" He suggested, though he was pretty sure that if one bought a broom that wasn't generic-brand, the broom would come with comfort of the rider in thought. And that would be without a cushion even.

She shifted uncomfortably at his words. There was no arguing there. "I can do that. It just takes some getting used to." A lot of getting used to. There were so many things she'd never thought of as real and now she was beginning to learn they truly did exist. "So I suppose if there's wizards and witches and ghosts then there are things like unicorns and trolls and dragons too." So many things she'd read in fiction or watched on television flooded her mind. Fantasy was now reality. That was a huge adjustment.

"Flying," she breathed. That word kept echoing in her head. She smiled for the first time since this boy had sat down at her table. "I should add broom to my list of things to buy then shouldn't I?" He didn't sound so sure about the cushion. Maybe there were some things he didn't know the answer to. Right now though she couldn't really question him further. She could see her father signalling her to come with him. Marie-Laure quickly stood. "I've got to go now. Goodbye." She raced off after Papa. One way or another she would talk Papa into buying one more extra even though she had no idea how much it must cost.