Harry Potter and all characters, etc. belong to J.K. Rowling, not me.
Harry McGonagall - Chapter 34 - Acclimating to France
A/N Italics in dialogue will usually mean that the speaker is using the French language to express the message I've written in English. As previously stated, I don't speak French and have no desire to butcher that language.
--HM--
"So, Harry, are you going to tell me how you suddenly went from barely knowing the French alphabet to being a fluent speaker?" asked Aunt Minnie. She and Harry were sitting alone at a table in the Great Hall (although they called it the Dining Chamber) of Beauxbatons waiting for dinner to begin in about fifteen minutes. "I know you can't master a language from one lesson per week during a year."
She was referring to Professor LaVelle's lessons of the previous year, which Harry had attended and learned a bit in. He'd also attended some lessons this year before the tournament. Although he certainly hadn't mastered the language from those classes (hence the desperate need for his magical mind meld with Hermione), he had learned enough that he could apply his newly acquired knowledge immediately. Otherwise, he'd have taken weeks processing the information his girlfriend had given him. Therefore, he did not consider those lessons to be a waste. Looking at his aunt, he realized that he'd better answer her.
"Um, well," he began, switching back to his American accent, "Hermione had this idea, you see."
"Go on."
Although he didn't know why, he felt very uncomfortable talking about what they'd done. However, he knew Aunt Minnie would not accept anything less than the truth. "She, kind of, taught me through Legilimency." He said the last part as fast as he could. Minerva's eyes bulged out at that proclamation as her lips thinned.
"What? Do you realize how…dangerous that could be?"
"Dangerous?" he repeated, showing confusion on his face. "How? Our books didn't say it was dangerous."
"They said NOTHING about teaching through that manner at all. That means it hasn't been properly tested before, so anything could happen."
"I think most people just don't want to completely open their minds to another person like that," Harry countered, knowing that his girlfriend's idea had worked flawlessly. "It was rather…personal." He involuntarily blushed at that statement. "But the point is that it worked perfectly, and since I'd had a few French lessons before, I came out of it ready to speak the language fluently. For example, I now know that `Beauxbatons' translated roughly means `beautiful wands.' It was a bit overwhelming to learn the language, but I'm glad I did."
"I wasn't aware she spoke French so well."
"Oh, yeah. You know her parents have taken her to Paris several times. She learned the language as a little girl so she wouldn't be helpless if she ever got lost. Probably also so she could read French books. I know Hermione said she spoke a bit of French before joining the class, but that's just her modesty. I honestly don't know why she took the class at all, except maybe to review." He grinned. "I remember that she did want to sign up for Muggle Studies that year, too."
"Yes," replied Minerva with a small smile. "She never feels she knows anything well enough. Always trying to learn more."
With a far away look in his eyes and a grin on his face, Harry softly whispered, "Yeah."
Putting a hand on her nephew's shoulder, Headmistress McGonagall replied, "You'll see Hermione soon. Don't worry."
"I suppose." At about that time, the doors burst open, revealing a herd of French students, all wearing robes of fine silk. The girls' outfits were pale blue while the boys' were a slightly darker shade. One thing he noticed is that those school uniforms looked like they weren't as thick as the Hogwarts robes he was wearing. He'd slowly been realizing that it was much warmer at Beauxbatons than Hogwarts and he really needed to either start wearing different clothes or begin using cooling charms on himself.
"I'd better get over to the faculty table. I don't want any of your potential new friends to avoid this table because they don't want to sit with an old teacher."
As his aunt got up, Harry started to protest, "You're not old…" but trailed off because she was leaving. And so, for the first time since his arrival, he was alone, if only at a table. Taking a deep breath, he looked up at the incoming students and smiled at them, to show he was friendly. It was after five or six of those students gave him a strange look and walked to a table on the other side of the Dining Chamber, and Harry's expression fell, that one of the boys that appeared to be his age approached him. Harry noticed that the boy had dark hair and brown eyes as he sat down across from him.
Slowly, the boy spoke in English. "Hello. My…name…is Jean-Luc LaSalle." He sounded like every English word he spoke was a challenge. "You…must…be…"
"Harry McGonagall," the Boy-Who-Lived-In-Secret replied. Then he continued in the language of the land he was in. "I speak French."
"Good. That makes communicating much easier. If you don't mind, I'd like to point out a…cultural mistake you've been making."
Harry frowned. "Already?"
"Yes. I'm afraid so. I know that in some other countries, smiling at strangers puts them at ease, but that's not the case here."
Nodding, Harry replied, "I've noticed that's not the affect it's had so far."
"In France, if a stranger smiles at you, you think he's mad man escaped from the mental hospital. You wonder what he wants with you."
Harry's ears turned pink as he realized that's the first impression he gave several people. "Thanks for the tip, Jean Luc."
"No problem. I'm happy to help. Do you mind if I have my friends sit here with you?"
"Of course not. The more the merrier."
Within a few minutes, the two teenage boys were joined by three others - a boy and two girls.
"Harry McGonagall, this is my girlfriend, Brigit, and our friends Pierre and Henrietta." As Harry looked at his new companions, he saw that Brigit had long, dark brown hair that was in a ponytail. Her eyes were blue and her face somewhat pale. Pierre had hair as blond as Malfoy's with brown eyes, and was holding Henrietta's hand. She had short dirty-blonde hair that matched Harry's own, but her eyes were blue. They were all in school robes and had obviously just gotten out of class. The three newcomers all seemed surprised and Harry immediately realized why.
"Yes, I speak French," he said in their native language, "and it's good to meet you."
Before they could respond there was a flash in the middle of the room and a buffet table appeared, complete with plates and silverware.
"Well," said Jean Luc, "That's our cue to get dinner. Are you familiar with French cuisine?"
"No," Harry admitted.
With a large grin, Brigit said, "Then you are in for a treat."
They got up and joined the line that was already forming. Harry patiently moved with the line as his four companions gave him a crash course in French food, talking about all the possible combinations for the three course dinner that awaited him. He was grateful that all the types of food were labeled, most likely for the benefit of visitors like himself. He read the names Duo de Saumon Fumé, Escargots Bourguignonne, Soupe á l'Oignon, Consommé des pecheurs, Vichyssoise, Salade Melange, Ravioli aux legumes Grillés, Queue de Langouste, Coq au Vin, Chateaubriand, and Crêpes Florentine, among other things. While he knew what the words meant, he didn't know much about the vast majority of it. Hermione hadn't shown him too much knowledge of French Cuisine during their `mind meld.' He decided to take a bit of everything that looked good to him, earning a few weird looks from some of the French students. To go with that, he got a glass of pumpkin juice. He was both relieved and disappointed at the same time that Beauxbatons didn't serve anything alcoholic to their students, despite muggle customs regarding alcohol being different than in England or America.
When he got to the table, Pierre said, "You do realize that most of that food doesn't go together, don't you?"
Harry looked at the French teenager like he'd grown a second head. "Why not?" Without waiting for an answer, he stuck his fork into a piece of chicken from the bit of Coq au Vin he'd taken a sample of. As an American, he felt it was his right to eat whatever he wanted with whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted (within reason), and felt it was nobody's business what he ate. That doesn't mean he took offense at his new acquaintance's comment. It just meant that coming to France did not make him French. Besides which, he figured that he had no need of friends who couldn't tolerate the slightest hint that he wasn't raised in French culture. He wasn't trying to snub them by any means, but he was going to be himself.
Fortunately, the four French students at Harry's table didn't take offense at Harry's meal. Instead they were a bit amused. They had been told that Harry McGonagall had both a British and American background that day when it was announced he'd be coming, so they didn't expect him to act French. They were all glad that he at least spoke the language.
"I can't believe someone forced you into that tournament," commented Henrietta sympathetically.
"Me neither," agreed Harry. "Hermione - my girlfriend - was really upset. My sister - Brianna - thought it was a joke at first."
"It was also announced that you'd be attending fourth year classes with us."
"Are you all in my year?"
"Yes," they all answered.
"What's it like to attend a school where your aunt is Headmistress?" asked Brigit.
Harry shrugged his shoulders. "Sometimes it's great. Other times it's not. My aunt will always listen to my side of the story if I'm in trouble, but she doesn't always side with me. She sometimes holds me to a slightly higher standard than the other students. Also, some of the students are of the opinion that my sister and I get favored, but that's nonsense." He sighed. "In any case, my friends don't treat me differently because of it, and that's what matters."
"What's your girlfriend like?" asked Pierre. "You mentioned her name - Hermione?"
The girls at the table noticed how Harry's whole face lit up when he thought about her. "Well, she's brilliant - top of our class. Um, beautiful, too. She's also one of the most compassionate people I've ever met. A great friend, too. We met just before starting Hogwarts and were best friends. We've been dating…for nearly a year now." He frowned for a moment. "I guess I'll have to miss our anniversary. Anyway, I already miss her. She'd love to get to see other schools like this."
They continued talking throughout the meal, and Harry learned a bit about the classes he'd be starting the next morning. Before he went to the Hogwarts carriage, he found a private spot to call his girlfriend on his mirror.
"Hi, Hermione," he exclaimed with a smile as soon as she answered. "It's good to see your face."
"Yours, too. I've been so worried. So, you had no problem with Percy's portkey I take it?"
With a scowl, he replied, "Actually, that idiot put me a few feet above the ground and I fell."
"Are you alright?" she asked in concern.
"I'm fine. Thanks for teaching me French. It's really helped."
Beaming at her boyfriend, she replied, "It was my pleasure."
They chatted for a few more minutes, with Harry talking about both his tour and meal, along with the people he'd sat with.
"It sounds like you're already making friends."
"Yeah, but it doesn't make me miss you any less."
With a giggle, she asked, "Which cheesy romance novel did you steal that line from?"
"Hey. I'll have you know I came up with that cheesy line all by myself!" He fake-pouted as his girlfriend laughed. "I suppose I'd better get to bed," he said after a minute. "Tell Padma and Brianna I said hi."
"I will." After a second, she got an evil grin on her face. "Make sure you copy the entire Beauxbatons library for me this year."
He grinned back. "I will. Bye." He took a deep breath before adding, "I love you."
"I love you, too," she replied with a big grin. She then blew him a kiss. "Bye."
When Harry got to the Hogwarts carriage, he found that there were only two dorms - one for boys and the other for girls, so he had to sleep in a room with over twenty guys. When he opened the door, he found that the lights were on and he was in a dorm full of seventeen-year-old boys/men in various states of undress. Some of them were studying textbooks while a few others had magazines he knew his aunt couldn't be aware of, based off the glimpses he got of the centerfolds that were being meticulously studied. He could swear one of the models winked at him, causing his ears to turn pink. A Wizarding Wireless was playing a song called, `Can You Dance Like a Hippogriff?' in the background. He noticed a cot near the door that had his trunk on it, so decided that this must be his bed.
As he moved to sit down, he heard one of the boys he didn't know announce, "Look everyone, it's McGonagall the Champion!" with a tone of voice that left no room for doubt that he was being insulted. Harry glanced up to see it was a Gryffindor he'd never met. There were a few chuckles at this, but fortunately not that many.
"Hey, guys, lay off!" said a Ravenclaw prefect named Eric. "You're only jealous that somehow he got picked by the goblet and we didn't."
"But he cheated!" exclaimed a Slytherin.
"While he was at Hogwarts?" countered Cedric Diggory. "Don't be stupid!"
"His aunt…"
Harry interrupted this argument himself by shouting, "Has been opposed to this bloody tournament since the summer! She thinks it's too dangerous for any of you, to say nothing of me! You have no idea how upset she is about this!" He took a deep breath. "I don't want to be here and you don't want me here, but we're stuck. You leave me alone and I'll leave you alone."
"Or what?" asked the stupid Gryffindor while the others rolled their eyes.
Cedric replied, "Or his aunt will have you sent back to Hogwarts in detention cleaning the bathrooms with your tongues for the rest of the year."
"Pretty much," Harry agreed with a grin. This normally was not his style, but he'd never had to deal with this many upperclassmen before, and had no idea how good any of them were in dueling and didn't want to find out. "I don't care what you do among yourselves, or what you read," he gestured toward the nearest Playwitch magazine, "as long as you leave me alone. I'm not a tattle-tale, but if I have to ask for a different room, my aunt will want to know why and when I tell her, she'll be really, really upset."
Harry didn't like the way he felt throwing his status around like that, but really didn't know what else to do to avoid trouble with this group. It seemed like there were only a few troublemakers there, but if he didn't nip this in the bud they could make his life miserable. He also made a vow to cast the best wards he knew how around all his stuff, including his bed, so that nothing would happen to it while he was either asleep or absent.
--HM--
Harry was in the Dining Chamber early the next morning, and was soon joined by his new friends. He'd been pretty much ignored by the older boys in his sleeping room, aside from a few friendly ones. He really did miss his small dorm at Hogwarts. After they'd eaten their breakfast, Harry walked with Jean Luc, Brigit, Pierre and Henrietta to their first class of the day - Transfiguration.
Over the years, Harry had three teachers of this subject. First, he'd begun learning the basics at his American school. Then at Hogwarts, he had his Aunt Minnie before she was replaced by Professor Shapon. Now, he was meeting his fourth Transfiguration teacher.
As Harry found a seat near his companions, he looked at the friendly-looking elderly man seated behind the desk. He had short white hair with a well-trimmed moustache to go with it. He was wearing a maroon beret with navy blue robes. "Good morning, everyone," he said in French. He looked over the class, silently taking attendance, until his eyes rested on the new face. "You are Harry McGonagall, I presume?"
"Yes, sir," the foreigner replied.
"I'm Professor Ladue. Your Hogwarts grades were forwarded to me and I have a copy of the book I use for this class that you may borrow until you have the chance to purchase a new one."
"Thank you, sir."
"According to your Professor Shapon, your class just finished learning to turn vases into cats, which is what we will be covering today. Am I correct?"
"Yes, sir," Harry agreed, guessing what was coming next.
Indicating a cheap plastic gray vase on his desk, the instructor asked, "Please demonstrate the spell, Mr. McGonagall."
Quietly sighing at being singled out already, he got up and walked to the teacher's desk, after releasing his English wand from its holster. His pointed it at the vase, did the appropriate wand movements and said (in Latin), "Inflecto Felonis!" The vase in question unerringly morphed into a gray kitten about the same size as the vase. It meowed, earning a few chuckles.
"Well done, Mr. McGonagall. Were we at Hogwarts, I would've awarded you ten points for Ravenclaw, but we don't have a system like that here. You may sit down." The professor turned to the rest of the class. "Did all of you catch the wand movement and incantation?" he then changed the kitten back into a vase and repeated the process for the class before setting them off to practice the spell. Harry, naturally, was asked to help by a few of the students. Some of the girls seemed to be flirting with him, but he pretended not to notice.
As Harry continued the day, as well as the week, he found that he had no trouble keeping up with his classes, with the exception of History of Magic. He was slightly ahead or slightly behind in all of them but the class that was still being taught by a ghost at Hogwarts. Two separate factors put Harry way behind in this class. One was that it was covering modern history that had happened since Binns had died, and the other was that, oddly enough, it concentrated more on French history than British. Charms and Herbology seemed to be the specialty of Beauxbatons, and Harry was very glad he'd studied ahead. Otherwise, he would've been struggling to keep up.
Hermione had spent all her free time during that first week trying to find a way for Harry to get out of the Tournament, but to no avail. She informed him of her lack of progress every night in their mirror calls until finally he told her to stop.
"We can't give up, Harry. We…"
"You tried, Hermione and I'm thankful. We just have to accept it." He'd been rehearsing that speech all day after he decided that he couldn't let Hermione obsess over the Triwizard forever. "We'll get through this. I know we will."
She sighed and Harry could actually detect a bit of relief on her features, but knew she'd never admit it. "I suppose you're right, but it still isn't fair."
"I agree with you there, but then life isn't always fair." Deciding to change the topic, Harry commented, "Today they had the Wand-Weighing."
"Oh. I've read about that. They test every competitor's wand to make sure it's in working order."
"Yeah," agreed Harry. "Rather than test it right before each task, they tested it once - a few weeks before the first task."
Hermione smiled. "I can see your point, but it might be too much trouble."
"Hermione, all the Wandmaker did was to perform one spell with each wand. To test all four of the wands took five minutes."
"Really? Then maybe they should check them before each event."
"Exactly." He sighed. "They also had a reporter there."
"Did you get interviewed?" she asked in concern.
"No, he wasn't that interested in me. He, like everyone else, knows I didn't even want to be in the Triwizard, so he probably knows my story won't be upbeat." He then grinned. "It's just a good thing no one famous like Harry Potter was entered in the Tournament."
She grinned back. "Yes, no reporter in the world would be able to resist interviewing him."
"Yeah." He paused for a moment, trying to think of something to say. "I'll be visiting Beauxville, their equivalent of Hogsmeade, tomorrow."
"That should be nice. I've read that they have this wonderful bookstore called Plein de Livres…" Harry smiled as his girlfriend's eyes lit up once again while he picked up a quill to write out her shopping list.
After much searching, Harry had found a place where his Game Boy worked - a small room that was part of the stables that housed the Abraxan that lived at Beauxbatons. After finding it, he made sure there were no rules against going there (which there weren't as long as he left the horses, along with their single malt whiskey, alone) and talked his aunt into buying him a new cd player. She made sure to charm one wall with a silencing spell so he wouldn't disturb the animals while he listened to music, transfigured a shovel into a chair and transfigured a rusty bucket into a desk. This is where he mostly stayed when he wasn't hanging out with his new friends. He pretty much only went to the Hogwarts carriage to sleep and shower.
--HM--
"Welcome to Beauxville!" exclaimed Jean Luc as they exited the Abraxan-pulled carriage that had brought them to the magical French village.
Harry looked around the area to see a small town that was more modern-looking than Hogsmeade, and seemed (to Harry) much more feminine, sort of like a larger version of Madam Puddifoot's. It seemed that flowers were growing on every spot of dirt as his eyes roamed around. He saw an enchanted flower shop, as well as a romantic-looking restaurant, but what surprised him most was a small wedding chapel that was obviously put there to handle elopements.
"Wow," exclaimed Harry. "It looks like they want students to elope."
"Love is encouraged in France," replied Brigit with a grin.
"I can see that. What else is here?" He began walking down the street and noticed a few more restaurants before finding the book shop Hermione had mentioned to him - Plein de Livres (Many Books) - so he walked inside and pulled his girlfriend's shopping list from his pocket. He was thankful he'd remembered his bottomless bookbag. Otherwise, he'd have never been able to carry the two dozen tomes he'd been asked to purchase, in addition to his new French textbooks.
After leaving the bookstore, he noticed a magical art store, with several moving portraits of both people and animals spread throughout the studio. It even allowed customers to commission a portrait to be painted, either of themselves or anything else they fancy. Appointments had to be made for those services.
When it was lunchtime, the group went to a restaurant, where Harry simply ordered the same thing Pierre did. He still wasn't an expert on French food, although he hadn't found much that he genuinely disliked. The restaurant, unlike Beauxbatons, did serve wine, which Harry did sample, but didn't really like that much.
He bought some souvenirs for his friends in England after that and eventually the group returned to Beauxbatons Palace.
--HM--
The next few weeks passed far too quickly for Harry, as he had yet to get one clue about what he'd face during the first task of the tournament. He complained about this to his aunt during Animagus practice, who looked regretful as she replied, "I'm sorry, Harry, but I can't tell you what you'll face. However, I know that you can succeed. You have been taught what you need to do."
Harry could tell she was giving him a clue about the next task and decided to try to find out more. "So, I've learned the spell I'll need."
"Yes."
His eyebrows came closer together as he concentrated. "But I'd assume it's not a spell taught in one of my classes. It would probably be N.E.W.T. level." His aunt didn't say anything but he could tell he was correct. "That should narrow it down. It's something I have done - not just attempted?" He was trying to eliminate his attempts at transforming into an animal. She remained almost motionless, but he detected her nearly imperceptible nod. Suddenly, he knew what he'd need to do. "Thanks, Aunt Minnie!" he said and quickly left to practice the spell.
"For what?" she asked softly, with a small smile on her lips as the door to her temporary office was closed. "I hope Professor Ladue was right that this was fair," she whispered to herself, hoping she hadn't really cheated.
--HM--
The day of the first task came quickly - far too quickly in Harry's opinion. He had just sat down for breakfast at the table he and his French friends used when he noticed the door to the Dining Chamber open to reveal the last person he'd expect to see here. Harry's jaw dropped as he automatically stood up and began walking.
"Harry!" exclaimed Hermione Granger with a large grin once he was close enough to hear her. Not needing an invitation, he rushed forward and hugged her tightly for about ten seconds before pulling back just enough to kiss her. Neither of them noticed that nearly everybody in the room was watching them as his picked her up off the ground and spun her around while their faces were still molded together. They also didn't notice the flash of a camera. They probably wouldn't have noticed an explosion, either.
When the need for air finally forced them to separate, a female voice behind Hermione exclaimed, "Get a room!" Harry glanced to see his little sister. Surprisingly, he was actually happy enough to see her that he gave her a quick hug.
"Hi, Brianna. What are you two doing here?"
"You didn't think we'd miss the start of the Tournament, did you?" asked Hermione. "Besides, your aunt said she wanted you in good spirits for the first task."
"Why didn't you say anything last night when we talked on our mirrors?"
"I wanted it to be a surprise."
"It was a good one." He gave his girlfriend a quick kiss. "I've missed you so much!"
"I assume this is the Hermione that we've heard so much about." Harry turned to see his small group of French friends. Jean Luc had been the one speaking. "You weren't exaggerating when you said she was beautiful."
Hermione blushed and said, "Thank you. Harry's told me about you as well." She then proceeded to guess all four of their names correctly.
Harry then indicated his sister and said (in English), "This is Brianna. I think I mentioned her."
"Yes," replied Jean Luc. "Would you like to…join us for breakfast?" He was actually improving his English with Harry there to help him.
They returned to Harry's table and got to know each other better until the champions were called away to prepare for the task. As he was just leaving the table, he distinctly heard Brigit whisper in French to Hermione, "So tell me, is Harry a good kisser?"
--HM--
Harry was led into a tent with the other three champions, all of whom appeared to be nervous. Harry was nervous himself. He had narrowed the choices of what they would be facing down to two creatures - neither of which was really something he'd want to fight. He had practiced as much as he could and was currently confident in his ability to cast the necessary spell. Unfortunately, he also knew that many things could go wrong.
The tent itself had the entrance on one side of it and the exit on the other side. All of the competitor's eyes were drawn to the exit as they waited for the tournament to begin.
"Welcome, everyone, to the first task of the Triwizard Tournament!" said the head of the French Department of Games and Sports, his voice amplified by a Sonorus spell. All four champions heard that announcement, followed by, "Our first champion will be Viktor Krum from Durmstrang!"
Without a word, the Durmstrang champion left the tent through the exit. The others heard gasps, screams and applause as they waited for the next champion to be called. About ten minutes after Krum had left, the announcer declared, "Our second champion will be Harry McGonagall of Hogwarts."
Taking his wand out, Harry walked through the tent flap into complete darkness.
--HM--
Please review. Thank you to those who have.
I just thought I'd clarify that only the movie has Beauxbatons a girls' school and Durmstrang a boys' school. In the book, both schools have both sexes, just like Hogwarts. Besides, it's really difficult to believe that in France, only the girls have magic.
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