Je t’aime, mon amour || D.M · Y/n story by @deathlysallows

The Great Hall buzzed with the usual start-of-term chaos. Floating candles dripped wax onto the long house tables. First years huddled in a nervous line near the front. But no one was paying attention to them.

Pansy Parkinson

I heard he's half veela. Like, actually. His grandmother was French veela royalty.

Daphne Greengrass

leans in, uncharacteristically interested I heard he speaks English with an accent. Like, a really good one.

Astoria Greengrass

sighs dreamily Apparently every girl at Beauxbatons was in love with him. Every single one.

Lorenzo Berkshire

snorts from across the table You lot are pathetic. It's just a bloke from France. Calm down.

Theodore Nott

without looking up from his pumpkin juice Says the guy who spent all summer learning French on Duolingo.

Lorenzo Berkshire

That's— that's unrelated.

Mattheo Riddle

smirks Yeah. Totally unrelated.

Professor McGonagall tapped her glass at the staff table, and the hall gradually quieted. She gave the first years a sharp look before turning toward the great oak doors.

Professor McGonagall

We have one additional student to sort this evening. A transfer from Beauxbatons Academy.

The doors creaked open.