The carrosse de Beauxbâtons soon began to descend and smoothly landed on the grounds. Students, mostly first-years, began pressing themselves against the windows, gazing out onto the school grounds, letting out awe-filled gasps. The doors suddenly flew open, and the man from earlier stepped inside, a stern look on his face. "We've arrived, boys and girls. Please leave your luggage in the carriage; it will be brought to your rooms." Some of the students began to stand, and the man raised his hand. "Please slow down. The ones closest to the door will exit first."
Marielle sighed and stowed her book in her bag, leaning against the window, she looked out at the chateau. It was magnificent, its marble façade glittering in the moonlight. Larger than any muggle palace, it stretched out for almost a mile, its high, shimmering windows casting light over the sprawling, lush gardens surrounding the school. She could see students filing out of the many carriages that had gathered on the gravel area, there were a lot more than she had seen in Paris. Some must have come from Madrid, Lisbon, Brussels and Amsterdam. She hoped the communication between students wouldn't be too difficult. She paused. It would be interesting, though, to learn the languages of so many different nationalities. She felt a tugging at her sleeve. It was Océane, tall, with black hair and blue eyes. Marielle was never sure what to think of the Rosier, the girl had a dreaminess about her that made Marielle doubt her friend's every move. "Come on," Océane said.
Stepping outside, Marielle's eyes went wide; the Pyrenees stretched out before her, snow-topped fangs reaching towards the sky. Amélie gasped, "I've read about it in books, but by Jeanne." Marielle took a deep breath of the warm night breeze and smiled. Four months, she would have four months without having to see her family. They had been seriously getting on her nerves recently, constantly telling her to make connections while she was at Beauxbâtons and to "Find a boy from a good family.", as if she didn't already know that.
Looking around, she quickly spotted an older-looking man, olive-skinned and black haired. He stood poised with the number one formed from a blue cloth floating above his head. He reminded her of Monsieur Guermeau, the French wandmaker, a brissly, gruff, old man. "There," she said, pointing at him, "we should go make a good impression." From what she had learned from her father, first impressions at Beauxbâtons were everything. If a teacher thought you were lazy or unmotivated, they could make your life hell, and there was no way she would ruin her school life.
They quickly joined the already small group of students. Making their way through the crowd, Marielle stretched her hand out to the Professor, "Marielle Volant, it's a pleasure to meet you, Monsieur." The man looked her up and down, and Marielle clenched her jaw. It was the same look her father gave her, a gaze searching for the slightest imperfection. "Justino Castillo, History professor", he said, taking her hand, "you're Jacques's daughter, aren't you? I went to Beauxbâtons with your father. I hope you'll be as exceptional as he was." She had heard the tales from her mother of how her father had excelled at school, how he had become the Captain of the Étoiles envoûtées, one of the Quidditch teams at Beauxbâtons. "I won't let you down, Professor Castillo." she said, smiling brightly. Castillo glanced behind her and nodded to someone, "Madame Volant, get back to your friends, it's starting."
As soon as Marielle had gotten back to the girls, Castillo started, "Good evening boys and girls, and welcome to Beauxbâtons, I hope your ride here was comfortable enough." Most in the now massive group of first years let out a chuckle. "The other years have been escorted inside already, but I have a bit more to tell you.
Firstly, we have a strict no pets policy within the school, if you do have an animal, there are buildings on the grounds where they can stay. Just like your luggage, they will be brought there separately.
Secondly, we will give you a tour of the school tomorrow. Tonight though, the seventh-years that'll bring you to your dormitories. After breakfast, stay in the dining hall until we pick you up.
Thirdly, Beauxbâtons believes that the mental health and wellbeing of our students comes first, and so, classes will only begin the day after tomorrow, allowing you to get settled in first." He then clapped his hands and gave them a warm smile. "Any questions?"
A dark skinned boy raised his hand, and Professor Castillo pointed at him. "Mister, when Quidditch learn start?" the boy said in broken French. Marielle couldn't quite pinpoint his accent, but she suspected he was Dutch. "For older years, it starts as soon as the term begins, but for you, first-years, you will have to complete at least the beginner's flying course, which should be in about two months." A few of the students groaned, including Océane. "Anyone else?" Castillo asked, but everyone stayed silent. "Excellent, now if you would follow me, I will guide you to the dining hall."
As they entered the massive chamber, all of them gasped. It had to be the largest room Marielle had ever seen. Small tables littered the room, enough to seat eight people each, and with the number of students attending Beauxbâtons, the tables were numerous. "Look!" Amélie gasped. Above them, an intricate fresco covered the vaulted ceiling. It depicted the founding of the International Confederation of Wizards.
One of the walls was covered from ceiling to floor with windows giving an uninterrupted view of the small lake and birch forest. The opposite wall was reserved for a stage on which a group of Wood-Nyphs, all holding a different instrument. At the far end of the hall was the head table at which all the teachers sat. Marielle's eyes grew wide as she saw the woman sitting at the centre. She was huge, with olive-tanned skin, and her hair, tied back in a perfect bun.
The students quickly dispersed throughout the hall, looking for places to sit with their friends. To the fours' annoyance, they couldn't find a single table with space for them. "It's fine, you three sit down here," Marielle said, motioning at the one table with three seats left, "I'll go join another group." Fleur frowned, "You sure? We could just pull a chair over." Marielle shook her head. "I'll find you later, enjoy yourselves." She wanted to meet some of the other students anyway, and this was the perfect excuse, without looking rude.
It didn't take her long to find another table, this one filled with third-years. "Mind if I join you?" she asked. One of them, a pale, blonde, blue-eyed girl, looked up at her, "Go ahead." As she seated herself, Marielle asked, "Are you Belgian?" The girl smiled, "Is it that obvious?" Chuckling, Marielle nodded, "You have an accent, though it's barely noticeable." One of the boys, tall and brown haired, leaned across the table, "Can you tell where I'm from?" Marielle frowned, he clearly wasn't from any of the countries that would normally attend Beauxbâtons. He sounded Slavic, but she doubted she could pinpoint the exact country, "I have to admit, I don't know, Belarus maybe." The boy laughed, "Good guess, but no, I'm Czech." He then stretched out his hand, "Vlastimil Rychtar." "Marielle Valont." She said, taking his hand. He then motioned towards the Belgian girl, "This is Amina Bohet," he then grinned, "the best damn seeker in Beauxbâtons." Amina blushed and slapped his arm, "Shut up." Marielle smiled, "You two seem close." Vlstimil grinned, "We're cousins," he leaned closer, "though sometimes I'm not so sure, she's a bit," he spun his finger on his temple. Amina's face went bright red, and she began hitting him again. Marielle had to bite back a laugh, "Stop it, you two," she said, a massive smile on her face. This was what she had hoped for when coming here. It felt amazing getting out of that stuffy manor with all its rules, and her parents constantly watching her for the smallest mistake.