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Being French. by underanaurorasky
Chapter 1 : Welcome to Hogwarts
 
Rating: MatureChapter Reviews: 2


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The Scottish rain displeased Aurelie. She stood in the courtyard at Hogwarts, peering upwards at the looming grey building, and heavy stone. The clock chimed 10. This time yesterday she had been having a leisurely breakfast with her Mama and Papa- on the porch of their countryside farmhouse, in Provence. The sun had caressed her silky hair, making it lighter and her soft skin unusually tanned. She was sure that the Scottish rain would prohibit any more tanning, and she'd be back to her usual porcelain self. At Beauxbatons, she had always been popular- due to her mother. Her mother was Esme Dubois- married to the most famous Auror, Philippe Bernard. Her mother had her aged seventeen, her father being much older, and married. She was the center of the scandal, without even being alive. Still, now they lived a comfortable, luxurious life. Until she got sent away, that is- to complete her Sixth Year at Hogwarts.

The rain had long since ruined her makeup; she had a faint black smudge around her eyes- although being 1/4 Veela, she pulled it off. Aurelie knew she was attractive. The regulation school uniform at Beauxbatons was quite different to Hogwarts. For a start, back home in Southern France- she had her own dressmaker, and Mariette was the best. Her dress had always fallen just above her knee, highlighting her slim physique and sun-kissed tan. The colour had made her eyes pop and sparkle- adding to the allure. And her hair had always been more than blonde- white gold even. It cascaded down her back, in long wavy tresses. She was envied furiously by other girls at Beauxbatons, not just for her looks but her wealth and popularity. They didn't need to know how frequently she highlighted her hair. It would ruin the illusion. It wasn't that wrong anyway, a quick 'capilluminate' here and there wouldn't hurt anyone. It added to her natural beauty, so her mother said. However now, there wasn't a lot to be said for this grey, drab skirt which...

"Are you going to stand in the rain all day? I don't usually kiss on the first meeting, but I could make an exception..."













 Her thoughts were interrupted as he stood there. She'd be lying if she said she didn't know, or at least guess of this was. He had this cheeky, seductive grin and his black hair was messy and falling in his deep, green eyes. He leaned against the pillar, hands in his pockets, and his shirt looked as if it had just been thrown on in a hurry, the top button was undone and the sleeves were screwed and rolled up, revealing his strong forearms.He had an annoying smirk on his face, as if to say...

 

 "Kiss me- you know you can't resist..."

"Come on Aurelie, don't flirt back. You're better than him. You're part Veela for God's sake! He should be falling at your feet, not waiting for you to!" she told herself.

 Everything in her brain screamed just to run up and kiss that smirk away. She walked over to him, slowly. She was well aware that all eyes were on her, wherever she went- and Hogwarts was little exception. She could hear his friends, Hugo, Teddy and the rest of them- all calling out to him. He was a notorious womanizer. The son of Harry and Ginny Potter, no wonder every girl jumped into bed at the first chance with him.

 

 "Go on James!"

 

 "Get in there!" echoed from behind her.

 

 Still, she maintained her focus deep into his eyes.

 

 "Damn, if I fall over now- my reputation is screwed...", the thought couldn't help but penetrate her mind. "And heels, on cobbles is not a good idea!"

 

 She was now standing in front of James. Her left shoulder brushed his arm, and she took just one step past him. She caught his wrist, as she had done to some many guys in the past- all had fallen for it.

 

 "Does this work for British guys though? Sure works for the French...", the thought flashing doubt across her mind.

 

 She pulled his closer, and could see the look of satisfaction on his face. She could hear his breathing picking up, his warm breath causing goosebumps on her neck. She lifted her slight hand, and using her long elegant finger, brushed back his dark, sexy curls. Brushing her rosy lip across his ear and breathing heavily, she let go of her trunk. She turned, to check James' friends were still crowded around.

 

 "My face is up here. Je ne suis pas un idiot- sale petit salaud!",

 

 

 

Author's note: the french translates into "I'm not an idiot- dirty little bastard!" Thank you for reading so far!!!
 

-underanaurorasky


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