September 10, 1893 — Castle Grounds, morning
for the attention of Miss Millie Potts

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Violetta sat on a small bench enjoying the sunshine while she took notes from a large bound book that she had removed from the library that morning. It was on the subject of Herbaceous life cycles and was written by an eminent professor. In her hand was an enchanted quill that she used to take notes without having the sully her fingers with wet ink. Beside her sat a small elegant box that had been delivered to her in the morning. The box had six little sections in it and five of which had a beautifully baked French Macaron nestled in it. Two lemon, two lavender, and one remaining nutmeg flavoured delicacy. They had come this morning without a name attached, only "Good luck for the new term... my future love". She knew this meant it was from the man she had been promised too, but she could not yet know her name.

"pour l'amour du ciel, qu'est-ce que c'est que ce mot ?" She cursed to herself. Wrinkling her nose and squinting at the pages The-ly-to-kous parth-en-o-gen-esis She slowly read it out to herself, no, saying it slowly did not make it any clearer.


Quite fortuitously though, she spotted someone walking by who might be able to help. Millie Potts was one of those witches, the types that were happy in the greenhouses with mud on their hands and a bug in their hair. She shuddered at that thought herself and then grinned before calling her friend over to help her.


"Mildred, dear, are you free for a moment of your time, I'm struggling a little with a few words in this herbology text." She smiled and tapped the seat just next to her on the opposite side of the little box of flavoured macarons. Moving her robe to allow the other girl fron her classes to sit down next to her. Once they sat she would offer one of the large pages to rest on Millie's knees so they could see the book together.

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   Millie Potts

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The young witch had hardly expected her first to week to be as much of an adventure as it had been. A grueling, stressful adventure that tried to worm its way deep into her core. It occupied so much of her mind that, outside of classes and mealtimes, she thought of little else until the week was finally at an end. With the morning, Saturday brought the refreshing change of crisp, clean air and the promise of a fresh start.

A fresh book rested under her arm as Millie strolled the grounds, taking in the lingering greenery of the waning summer months. On this side of the Black Lake, the deep water of the loch mixed with the heady aroma of the vegetation to arouse her senses. It brightened her sight and quickened her pace to find just the right spot to read her new book. Stashed in her trunk for a week, Millie was excited to finally crack open The Chronicles of the Enchanted Isles, which promised her a sailing adventure full of mythical creatures and hidden treasure in a far-off setting she could only imagine.

"Mildred, dear, are you free for a moment of your time..."

The words came wafting into her ears before she was nearly out of range, forcing Millie to double back toward the speaker. She recognized Violetta DeCroix, they shared classes together though not as much free time. And it was free time the young witch cherished most today, so much that her heart sank when she drew near and saw the massive tome the Slytherin girl was reading from. She wanted to be enthralled in the idylls of a seafaring fantasy, not parsing through the idiosyncrasies of Herbology.

"Doing a bit of light reading for Professor Skeeter's class?" Millie took the seat next to the other witch, and nestled her book between her dress and the infinite pages of the thick text dropped onto her lap. The tiny print seemed to spell out her doom for the next few hours, though she squinted at it anyway. Some details about some magical fungus that Millie wasn't very familiar with.

"It looks like some of the things Papa works with," she offered noncommittally. It wasn't as if she knew all the answers being sought after, but maybe she had absorbed one or two from being around her father's work.

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   Violetta DeCroix

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September 10, 1893 — Castle Grounds, morning
for the attention of Miss Millie Potts

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Violetta shuffled a little to make sure Millie Potts could be seated. She glanced at the book the other girl carried to wonder whether it was from theirnshared book club interests. "Light reading? She puzzled to the girl then understood what her meaning was, sarcasm was not her strongest suit. "Oh, oui, mama is quite insistent that I not allow myself to fall behind in any of my classes." She let out several little tutting noises to herself as she ran her fingers over the pages with the other girl, she did not like to admit that any subject was difficult for her to understand. And she honestly believed that Herbatology was one of those things you paid someone else to know about for you, and people, such as the Potts family, made a living off of such belief.

"This word here, it is Latin non? I think it has something to do with reproduction but...

Oh... my manners, can I offer you a macaron?" She lifted up the little box and offered them to the brunette sat next to her the small sweet meringue based confectionary glistened in the September sunshine and the little note card with its elegant calligraphy of the baker's hand sat askew stuffed between the layers of the inner tray and the cardboard lid. "The nutmeg ones are the best, but he sometimes forgets to add those." She smirked involuntarily, any excuse to hint where they had come from, particularly in front of a girl who had very recently proven herself to be a little gossip. She would allow Millie to take one but Millie might catch here eyes darting around her fingers to discretely check for contaminants that might spoil her delicacy.

"Do you have brothers that might follow your father into business or shall that fall to you?" Violetta politely enquired as she slipped on of the sweets delicately onto her own mouth.

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   Millie Potts

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Millie let her head fall into a gentle nod, understanding all too well the kind of pressure parents put on their children. She didn't like to think much of her papa's expectations for her, beyond knowing they meant she had to apply herself to her courses and study hard for exams. That didn't mean the young witch could only ever study, though, it was the first day of the term without classes and she intended to spend it for herself!

"It's Greek," Millie could say that much as she squinted at the term. She only knew -genesis came from a Greek term, it had to do with creation. Muggles liked to use it often in her novels, along with Eden. Once, it was almost indecipherable to her how much they inserted their religion into common speech, though by now Millie had learned to parse it like her textbooks, reading common terms around it to find the meaning. If there was one to be found.

She couldn't have searched for any with such a sudden assault on her nose. The macarons flooded her vision, each one promising a different new adventure.

"Why, thank you!" Millie reached into the box, moving aside the card with its maker's mark, a scrawling French name she didn't recognize. The colored sweets pleaded up at her until she picked one, its violet coloring appealing much more than the others.

"I think this might be—oh my," she paused, a finger pointed at the thely term on the book's page, to revel softly in the sweet flavor of the macaron as lavender flooded into her mouth. Millie pressed a finger to her mouth, tightly holding in the experience for fear that it might all fall away from her. The young witch hummed appreciation in her throat as she finished chewing and swallowed the first bite. "I have brothers and a sister. Fletcher was still here when we were first years."

Millie tossed her head, and her hand floated down to her neck instead. "My brothers have more chance of that than me," she said simply. Her eyes fell back to the text instead, harried to change the subject. "This isn't going to come up this year, is it? The thely—"

She frowned and pointed at the word, too unsure of her pronunciation to try it in front of Violetta. Millie was far better at writing words than speaking them.

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   Violetta DeCroix

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September 10, 1893 — Castle Grounds, morning
for the attention of Miss Millie Potts

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Violetta looked back at the word, rethinking maybe it was Greek, it didn't make a big difference in the understanding for her either way. "Perhaps... this is a fourth year text so it may?" The doubts of the other student made her second guess herself.

She tried to remember Fletcher Potts, she wasn't familiar with that name, but seventh years rarely mixed with first years, particularly across the genders to her lack of knowledge was of no suprise. She smiled as Millie talked about a convenient brother to free her up potentially for a more feminine future. "I have one brother, Papa, wishes for a second son should Luca turn out a squib, but Maman is confident in Petit DeCroix." He was only six, it was still far from being too late for his magical awakening, but her father was anxious to see it happen, a non-magical heir would be quite the embarrassment for the family.

Un.. duex.. trois..." She counted on her fingers aloud. "He shall be in Hogwarts in five years, we shall have graduated by then of course. He shall inherit and I shall marry. Ahhh, finir l'école in Paris, a Husband, bébés magnifique!

this is why we study, non?" She let out a happy sigh, thinking of the rewards her parents had promised her if she did well enough in her OWLS. She leaned back down to the book hoping that the words would have rearranged themselves into something more legible for the blonde teen or her brunette study mate.

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The young witch blanched at the thought of tackling this kind of material this year. The text looked dense and full of terms that refused to fit in a head full of the first week's classes. In her lap, the edges of her novel dug into her hips through her dress, reminding Millie of the alluring stories begging to be read instead.

At least her classmate was as willing to move on from the heavy tome. Millie listened through the girl's delicate French accent, which still persisted in Violetta through the years. An odd statement made her frown, she had never considered any of her family being at risk for being born non-magical. "Does that happen frequently in your family?" she inquired, suddenly wondering if she knew any family whose children had turned out differently. "Squibs, I mean?"

Now that was something interesting. Millie didn't care much to think about the future too much. The future was full of questions and expectations. Questions about remaining at Hogwarts after next year or being sent to finishing school. Questions about who her future husband would be and whether she could choose him. And if she somehow failed to meet her family's expectations, the question remained what would happen to her future.

No, a mystery was much more fun to explore. Even more than her novel, Millie decided as she placed a hand on its spine.

"Oh yes," the young witch agreed without thinking. She wanted to hear more about the pitfalls, if there were any, of Violetta's family. A life without magic seemed fascinating to her, even if she would never experience it. Sometimes Millie regretted not taking the class for studying Muggles and their ways, but there were many different ways to study.

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   Violetta DeCroix

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September 10, 1893 — Castle Grounds, morning
for the attention of Miss Millie Potts

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Violetta frowned a little at the question, to have many squibs in the family would be quite a humiliation, but she did invite the question. "Oh non! We have but the one squib that I recall, Papa's great uncle Louis, but Papa is frightfully paranoid." She had a slight mirth in her voice but it was tempered by not wanting to offend her parents even with there being no way of them ever knowing of this discussion.

Violetta sighed and moved to close her large book and looked up at the autumn sun. She looked at Milllie curiously "What are you reading? Is it anything good?" she peered into the lap of the other girl trying to make out the title on its spine. She made no secret of her love of reading, in particular French literature but over the past three years she had begun to enjoy English literature too, even if the language sometimes caught her out. "I have been reading a romance novel between classes, it is a little risqué at times, it is not one from la bibliothèque." she raised her eyebrows then blushed with a laugh. "Excusez-moi Mildred" she said apologetically and gave a light bow of her head.

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Millie found herself peering a bit more somberly at the Slytherin girl. What a world of difference it made to be the youngest in her family. Her brothers were already grown, their futures more firm, and her parents had put more of their energy into her sister's prospects. The young witch didn't have a betrothal waiting or live with bated breath for news of her siblings. It gave her an odd sense of relief to discover, as well an odd consideration toward her more studious companion's ardor.

"Supposing he was, Luca might attend a Muggle school. Then he could tell you all about them, even things that Muggle Studies wouldn't teach," Millie ventured, seeking a silver lining in what seemed to be a point of anxiety in Violetta. She didn't know how to soothe others, though the young witch felt the strong need to be helpful at the moment. A thin breath of air escaped when the other girl changed the subject, and she glanced down at the book in her lap.

"Oh!" she started, picking it up to show the glossy title engraved in the spine, "I don't suppose it's very romantic."

Millie was certain Violetta wouldn't enjoy it very much, no one was falling in love in her book. In fact, it had far more history and complexity than even she enjoyed sometimes. The young witch was managing it somehow, enjoying it despite herself, perhaps there was hope for the other bookish girl. "It's called Wizard of Honor, about the last Knight-Wizard in Europe. Before all the Secrecy, you know, wizards used to serve kings and nobles and even fight on battlefields. They had a code, a bit like the chivalric code, which is what the Knight-Wizard tries to follow even though he's not supposed to be doing magic in public anymore."

She found it quite daring and brave, to be standing up to two worlds telling him what he could no longer be. It was rebellious while still being virtuous, the kind of thing that Millie found wanting in herself. Perhaps the book was a bit more inspiring to her than entertaining, certainly more than a risqué romance might be, even if that sounded fun to do sometime. She could show her cousin Zinnia too, who would surely be impressed.

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   Violetta DeCroix

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September 10, 1893 — Castle Grounds, morning
for the attention of Miss Millie Potts

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The young blonde's eyebrow raised as Millie Potts tried to make light of her concerns over her little brother, muggle school, how disastrous that would be, her bemusement was apparent but Violetta could see the girl was just trying to be nice, so she let it pass.

"I've heard of the Knight Wizards, wouldn't it have been magnifique to stand beside Monsieur Boneparte on the eve of Austerlitz? Impératrice Violetta Boneparte, it has a nice ring, oui?" She was perhaps colouring her own perceptions of what a royal advisor might do with her marital aspirations, but it painted a picture in her mind. A smirk crossed her face as she adjusted the imaginary crown.

"Maybe it is one day that the muggles shall serve us?" her smile sparkled and there was just the lightest glimmer in her eyes of the classist mentality that was one of the reasons she was sorted into slytherin. She rocked slightly as she giggled to herself.

"It is good that we read, Maman and Papa wish me to be both educated, and also the perfect wife. Zut alor... if I don't get the grades and don't get to go to finishing school I don't know what I shall do." s shiver of anxiety found its way down the blonde's spine and quickly picked up another macaron to place in her mouth.

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Millie could dream of that scene all day long, listening greedily to the Slytherin girl's description. Her eyes drifted lazily over the grounds, and if she squinted the young witch could even make out the imposing figures of the Knight Wizard and others from her novel. This kind of magic needed no wand or words, all she needed was a pair of ears.

The scene rocked with an explosive change as a battle unfolded below the Knight Wizard, following a cue from Violetta's description. Millie recalled just enough from History of Magic to frown at the sight, turning back to the other girl as it dissolved into a hazy mist. She blinked a couple times to restore her focus, quite sure that no Knight-Wizard had ever survived to fight in a war with Napoleon. Her mouth cracked open, hanging ajar in a mix of surprise and horror, until Millie realized her folly.

A grin swept over her face and the young witch giggled at Violetta's triumphant declaration and pantomime. She was imagining a very different scene to Millie's, that was for certain. "Perhaps I should lend you the book when I'm done," Millie suggested. She would love nothing more than to share it with someone who could find it just as compelling. "If you'd like, that is..."

The young witch found herself grow quiet at Violetta's venture into classism. It didn't seem quite right, the notion of ruling over someone else. There were still kings and queens, Britain certainly had one, but she ruled from afar and was born to that role. The idea of taking over, bending the Muggle world to the will of wizardkind...the notion made Millie clutch the necklace at her throat. What was so wrong with living in Hogsmeade and keeping to themselves outside of it?

Millie's fingers rubbed at the silver links of her necklace, the soothing motion settling that twisted nerve at the bottom of her stomach. Violetta continued on, she certainly talked enough for the two of them, this time about a subject that twisted a knot deeper into her belly. "If I had to go to finishing school, I think I would be sick."

She nearly was now, twisting the chain at her throat until it nearly shattered. The young witch gasped and pulled her fingers away, clasping her hands in her lap. Her eyes looked down into it, the text of the book across their laps blurring against her vision. Millie never wanted to even think of attending finishing school, it would only signal that her life had become a complete disaster.

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   Violetta DeCroix

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September 10, 1893 — Castle Grounds, morning
for the attention of Miss Millie Potts

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Violetta nodded happily "I would enjoy that please." she responded to the offer of borrowing a book, reading was a pleasure and although she leaned towards her romantic novels, the story that Millie painted was quite interesting. She smirked as she finished playing pantomine Queen of France.

She looked with curiosity at her friend as she looked like she might tear the chain off of her necklace. What was so unpleasant to the girl as to make her fear finishing school to the point of sickness? Violetta had known that to be her fate for years and relished the chance to be the perfect version of herself and to make a husband very happy. They clearly had such different expectations. "Sick? Why?" she asked with a note of concern. "It is a chance to learn, non? We learn magic, and we learn womanhood. I am told my betrothed is tres handsome, I shall be a good wife for him, and he shall be my Knight" she raised an eyebrow at the silly girl who seemed so scared of something so lovely.

Violetta sighed, she was the Emma Bovary of her own tale, and not everyone else saw the world in a similar manner. "May I pick a book to... how do you say? Reciprocate the loan?" there was a grin on the face of the French girl as she had in mind several novels that might shed some light on the joys that the future might bring.

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To learn womanhood. The thought kept Millie occupied, turning it over in her mind as her hand kept its grip. Didn't they learn enough here, in etiquette and ventures into Hogsmeade and living alongside boys who were well enough into manhood to shave their faces. She stayed silent for a little while, considering it, before finally saying. "I don't know who would need more learning to be a woman, it is what we are."

Millie heard the retort in her mind almost instantly. Minnie Parkinson was one enough to warrant a finishing school, after how she had acted on the first night of the year. Her fingers clasped the necklace now, holding it tight. She didn't know if admitting that Miss Parkinson needed it would mean she did as well, both of them Ravenclaws and old enough to be regarded as young ladies moreso than mere girls.

For once, the young witch wasn't sure where the distinction actually lay.

"There's no knight in shining robes waiting for me." Millie's voice came out low, dropping her eyes to the ground. Her hand dropped into her lap as well, losing its grip on the soothing presence of her necklace. She dreaded the day of their OWLs, knowing too well what was at stake for her. "And I'd have to leave all my friends and classes here, the castle, library, all these trees..."

Not even the suggestion of a book exchange could pull Millie from her lamentations. The sickness that had threatened to grip her was pulling at the corners of her eyes and lips instead, threatening her composure now. A swallow was not enough to free herself from the dread falling on her like a weight. The young witch nothing ever could.

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   Violetta DeCroix

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Violetta tilted ger head and looked at the other girl out of the tops of her eyes. "Don't be obtuse Miss Potts, you know there is more to being a woman than, just being one" she let out a little smile then tapped her dress down and stood up, placing a hand at the base of her spine and one on her chest to straighten herself up. La dame has l'équilibre et l'élégance de Grace; that is, grace, poise and elegance." Violetta walked one foot in front of the other like her madame instructed so many times.

She smiled. "Do you think they shall let you stay in Hogwarts forever, a proper suitor, for a proper lady shall have a library and garden as fine as you you would like." she sighed and looked at Millie with a big smile, it was quite clear how much that Miss DeCroix loved this aspect of her life, and she got to have it without that debut scene. She also see that the Ravenclaw was considerably less thrilled by this prospect. So she sat back down, "Have faith Miss Potts. But perhaps we should focus on books, have you read Madame Bovary? Perhaps not... you shall, it's very good." she gave a raised eyebrow knowing it was likely different to most things the other girl had read.

The hour was passing, and they had entirely diverged from her initial query, something about mushrooms mating in the ground. Oh well, c'est la vie.

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Millie Potts

  

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The weight of the world was a heavy burden to carry, particularly on her slender shoulders. Millie let out a breath of air, idly wishing that Miss DeCroix could enjoy a companionable silence as much as the sound of her own voice. As much as her fellow witch was prone to as many flights of fantasy as her own, they were not the sort that Millie treasured in her novels. Perhaps it was the French in her that caused Violetta to idolize such a sophisticated life for herself, and others around her.

"No, I don't believe I have read that one yet," the young witch answered, grateful to have a question that wasn't about her far-flung future again. Her immediate future, at least, was a bit easier to contemplate. The subject of dinner choices and reading selections made for more polite conversation, she supposed. The young witch had let her fears loose on the unsuspecting Slytherin, and now she felt a bit embarrassed about it.

Their etiquette professor would have certainly disapproved of their conversation subjects.

Eager to leave before sucha quick-witted magistrate might cross their paths, or Violetta stumbled upon another of her worst, inner fears, Millie closed the book adjoining their laps. She got to her feet, setting her novel in the crook of her arm and taking a moment to survey the landscape of the grounds nearby. Searching, perhaps, for another spot to seclude herself from both passersby and airy Slytherin witches. The young witch looked askance at the castle instead, and let out another sigh, "I shall look for it next time I'm in the library," she promised, and both of them knew that would be in a very short time indeed.

"For the moment, I fear I've dallied too much in returning to my Charms essay. I'll see you in class, Miss DeCroix?"

A question, as well as a farewell, seemed to suit the moment of their departure. As poetic, if unsatisfying, as their fateful meeting this morning. Still, as Slytherin witches went, Miss DeCroix wasn't all bad.

She certainly enjoyed works of fiction more than others.

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   Violetta DeCroix

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